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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26535781">Veritas</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/terma_archivist/pseuds/terma_archivist'>terma_archivist</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Once a Thief (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2002-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2002-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:20:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,934</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26535781</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/terma_archivist/pseuds/terma_archivist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>By Jami Wilsen, Jennie and Jamie Joyce. Vic, Mac, booze, revelations, smut</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Victor Mansfield/Mac Ramsey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>TER/MA</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. I: In Vino</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Note from alicettlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at <a href="https://fanlore.org/wiki/TER/MA">TER/MA</a> and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/collections/terma/profile">the TER/MA collection profile</a>.<br/>Status: New—first in a series Spoilers: Assume all of OaT—just to be on the safe side Archive: Yes, to NickZone, RatB Disclaimers: None of these boys are ours—no money made here—no copyright infringement intended. Notes: Huge thank you to Sue and Laura for the beta.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <br/>
  <b>Veritas I
</b>
</p>
<p>In Vino
<br/>by Jennie, Jami Wilsen and Jamie Joyce
</p>
<p><br/> 	His head cocked to a contemplative angle, Mac sat, hunched over his glass, 	his weight on his elbows as he leaned on the bar. "I believe I'll have—rum 	next. Yeah.  Rum." 
</p>
<p>	Vic knocked back his scotch, flashing the other man a quick glance from the 	corner of his eye. "You're going to pay for all those, later."  It was a 	simple statement and not in the least judgmental. 
</p>
<p>	"Variety, they say, is the spice of life," Mac reminded him, accepting the 	grudgingly offered tumbler of dark liquid from the bartender.  "Though I've 	always wondered exactly who the heck "they" are," he added in an abstracted 	tone. 
</p>
<p>	Vic stared numbly into his own empty glass as if expecting to see answers 	revealed by the removal of its golden contents.  Finally, he shook his head 	and looked back up at the bartender with his most appealing expression.  It 	was clear what he was asking for, and equally clear he'd passed sober some 	time before. 
</p>
<p>	With a put-upon sigh, the bartender relented.  "One more, but that's the 	last." He took the glass from Vic's hand and turned back to the bottle-lined 	shelved grumbling under his breath, "No point in dirtying another glass...." 
</p>
<p>	After a few moments, Mac broke the heavy silence.  "At least she's going to 	be okay." 
</p>
<p>	Vic snorted. "No thanks to her date. You'd think she would have more sense." 
</p>
<p>	"T'wasn't her fault," slurred Mac, his attempts to sample the local bar's 	entire "top shelf" finally catching up with him. "She wasn't driving." 
</p>
<p>	Vic accepted the last scotch and threw it back as easily as he had the 	others.  That was the thing about drinking very old single malt.  Every one 	was as smooth as old silk. 
</p>
<p>	"Serves him right," Mac muttered, glaring into the glass that dared to once 	again be empty. 
</p>
<p>	"I'll drink to that," Vic said, lifting his own.  Too late he remembered 	that it too was empty.  He grimaced.  "Damn, maybe I won't." 
</p>
<p>	The latest target of scorn, Li Ann's unlucky date, had been disliked 	intensely upon first inspection by her two ex's.  They had swiftly joined 	forces in trying to impress upon her the unsuitability of the 'computer 	guy'. 
</p>
<p>	Brian Pendleton, argued Li Ann, was a gentleman and a lot of fun. She had 	been completely stubborn and insisted on accepting his invitation to dinner—to the dismay of both Mac and Vic. 
</p>
<p>	Their fears had seemed frighteningly justified when Li Anne hadn't shown up 	for work the next morning. The boys were instantly convinced that the man 	was a rapist, serial killer, or closest axe murderer.  The reality was only 	slightly less disturbing to Mac and Vic's overactive imaginations. 
</p>
<p>	It seemed Li Ann's gentleman had a bad habit of talking on the phone whilst 	driving... and had subsequently driven them into a tree, neatly wrapping the 	front fender around it and leaving Li Ann out of action for several weeks. 	The Director herself was more than a little put out—you'd almost have 	thought she'd have preferred the axe murderer.... 
</p>
<p>	Both Mac and Vic had rushed off to the hospital upon hearing the news. When 	they'd arrived, the ER nurse had informed them that their partner was in 	surgery and wouldn't be able to have visitors until the next morning. They'd 	exchanged a look, silently agreeing that they'd stay until surgery was over 	and Li Ann was safely in recovery. 
</p>
<p>	Shown to a waiting area for the families of surgical patients, they'd 	waited. Predictably, Vic had paced incessantly while Mac sprawled in a chair 	giving every appearance of complete and utter relaxation. For once, they'd 	not argued. Four hours in a small area, and not one snide remark. 
</p>
<p>	Mac couldn't believe it. Odd, how they seemed to have reached this silent 	agreement that their usual snappish digs at each other were out of bounds 	for those hours. 
</p>
<p>	Then, much to their relief, the surgeon had come out to speak with them, 	reassuring them that Li Ann had come through surgery with flying colors and 	would be fine. They were so relieved, in fact, that they went straight to a 	bar. 
</p>
<p>	Since then they had been busily downing drink after drink as they discussed—at great length—exactly WHY this Brian-the-computer-guy was completely 	unsuitable for Li Ann.  And how many ways there were to make a grown man 	disappear. 
</p>
<p>	While neither Mac nor Vic would have admitted to a case of sour grapes, the 	truth of the matter was this "computer guy" was smart, suave, well-educated, 	good-looking and apparently offered Li Ann a more stable, solid relationship 	than either of them could.  Something she insisted she wanted even as she 	kept her two partners 'dangling' with the occasional shred of hope. 
</p>
<p>	"He's irresponsible," Vic insisted, as if this was the worst possible sin a 	man could possess.  "I mean, you DON'T use your cellphone when you're 	driving! That's just—just common sense." 
</p>
<p>	Mac nodded sagely, ignoring the fact that he, himself, usually drove with a 	cell phone in one hand while the other was busy adjusting the radio. 	"Unsafe. How can she go OUT with a guy like that?" 
</p>
<p>	"After she turned both of us down," Vic added, finally getting to the heart 	of the matter. 
</p>
<p>	"For being too reckless," Mac rejoined. 
</p>
<p>	Vic turned to him, squinting slightly to bring his partner into proper 	focus. "Actually, you were the one she called reckless." 
</p>
<p>	Mac shrugged, unimpressed. "She called you predictable." 
</p>
<p>	Vic scowled, not at all happy with the turn the conversation had taken. 	"Okay, okay. The bottom line is: he isn't good for her." 
</p>
<p>	"And he's boring. Like, what's the attraction of cricket, anyway?" 
</p>
<p>	The bartender came over to them, arms crossed and stared at them 	meaningfully. 
</p>
<p>	"What's HIS problem?" Mac asked Vic—in what he thought was a quiet voice. 
</p>
<p>	Vic shrugged, almost falling off of his barstool in the process. "I think he 	wants us to leave. Idiot thinks we've had enough to drink." 
</p>
<p>	"What?" Mac's eyebrows rose in a comically stunned expression. "My good 	man," he slurred, leaning halfway across the bar to give the bartender his 	most sincere look, "we are just fine—not drunk at all."  Satisfied that 	that was resolved, he added grandly, "Another round, please.  I'll have 	vodka and tonic this time.  On second thought, hold the tonic." 
</p>
<p>	The man shook his head emphatically. "Not a chance, boys. You're both way 	over the legal limit. I'll just call you a cab so you can go home and sleep 	it off." 
</p>
<p>	"Don't need a cab," Mac responded, as if pointing out the obvious.  "Car's 	just outside—we'll be fine." Unfortunately, he waved one arm to emphasize 	his statement and lost his balance.  Only quick reflexes on Vic's part saved 	Mac from an intimate acquaintance with the questionable cleanliness of the 	floor. 
</p>
<p>	"C'mon, Mac," Vic intervened. "He's right—let him call us a cab—we can 	pick up the car tomorrow." 
</p>
<p>	Mac shrugged him off, and surged to his feet.  Ignoring the annoying 	tendency the floor had apparently developed to sway at irregular intervals, 	Mac questioned angrily. "You think I can't make it?" 
</p>
<p>	Vic merely squinted a little harder and chuckled at him. 
</p>
<p>	"What's so damn funny? I'm fine," Mac declared.  Realizing he was towering 	over the still seated man, Mac tried to put his superior position to good 	use by glaring at his partner.  Vic's mockery of his ability to hold his 	liquor was thoroughly pissing him off. 
</p>
<p>	Vic snorted.  "Right. Like I'm gonna let you behind the wheel so you can 	drive me into a tree of our very own." 
</p>
<p>	"I could make it," Mac grumbled. But the reminder of Li Ann's accident had 	taken the wind out of his sails.  And it also reminded him of that damned 	"computer guy" setting him off on a new round of complaints. "I just don't 	get it. What has he got that we haven't?" 
</p>
<p>	Vic groaned and rubbed his face with both hands. "What'd you have to do THAT 	for?" 
</p>
<p>	"What?" Mac stared. 
</p>
<p>	"Mention HIM, again. Could you not do that?  You're wrecking my buzz." 
</p>
<p>	"You brought it up, I didn't." 
</p>
<p>	"No, I didn't." 
</p>
<p>	"Yeah, you did." 
</p>
<p>	"Didn't." 
</p>
<p>	"Did, too. You talked about the tree." 
</p>
<p>	"No, I didn't. I was talking about your...driving ability. In your current 	state. Of in- in- inebriation."  Though Vic might have been willing to argue 	his sobriety a short time before, the fine Scotch he'd consumed was finally 	making itself felt. 
</p>
<p>	Mac sniggered. "Good one. I dare you to try and say that again." 
</p>
<p>	"You heard me the first time," Vic grumbled with wounded dignity. "You're 	drunk, I'm drunk—be sensible for once, Mac, and accept the damned cab. 	Neither of us can operate a car tonight." 
</p>
<p>	Pouting, Mac narrowed his eyes at Victor. "Okay, maybe we shouldn't drive, 	but if you think I'm leaving my car in that parking lot overnight, you're 	drunker than I thought." 
</p>
<p>	With a heavy sigh, Vic let his head thud onto the wooden bar.  Mac and that 	damned car.  He'd never understand why the man insisted on driving a vehicle 	that cost more than most people earned in years. 
</p>
<p>	Moments later, inspiration struck and Vic pulled his weary head from the 	wooden surface.  "Wait a minute, I think I know a few of the guys who still 	work this neighborhood.  We'll just let the police know your car will be 	here overnight and ask them to keep an eye on it."  Vic frowned and glanced 	around looking for a phone, "I have a couple of friends who wouldn't mind 	doing it—lemme just make a call." 
</p>
<p>	"Friends?" Mac asked in mock amazement. "YOU have friends, Victor?" 
</p>
<p>	"Fuck you, Ramsey," Vic growled.  "I'll have you know that I have plenty of 	friends—PLENTY of friends." 
</p>
<p>	"Riiight," Mac agreed in an obvious attempt to ward off the 	you-don't-know-me-I-have hidden-depths lecture he'd heard one too many 	times. "I'm sure you do, Victor."  When the other man sliced an icy green 	glare his way, he added, "Really." 
</p>
<p>	He sighed and nudged Vic's shoulder with his own. "Go on... make your call. 	BUT—if anything happens to my car, I'll... I'll... well, I'll think of a 	suitable revenge." 
</p>
<p>	By the time Vic had completed his call, the cab had arrived. The two men 	tottered out and poured themselves into the back seat. 
</p>
<p>	"Where to, gentlemen?" The driver asked. 
</p>
<p>	"Well, the night is young," Mac said, musingly. 
</p>
<p>	Vic shot him a disgusted look. "My place," he said. Then at the driver's 	questioning glance, he remembered that the man had no way of knowing where 	he lived and began giving directions, or at least trying to as Mac began to 	complain bitterly. 
</p>
<p>	"No! Not your place. No, no, no. That simply won't do, Vic. I'm allergic to 	your apartment. I really am. I'm not going there. You can drop me off at 	mine on the way." 
</p>
<p>	Vic jabbed him with a well-placed elbow, hoping to shut him up. "Hey. Cut it 	out. Or ... I'll cook." 
</p>
<p>	Mac spread his hands beseechingly. "No! Anything but that. Please. I'll—I'll—look, I'm behaving. Your place it is. Just don't cook anything." 
</p>
<p>	Vic frowned at him. "I'm not THAT bad! And I'll have you know that I've 	improved, too, since you were last over." 
</p>
<p>	Mac regarded him pleadingly. "I'm begging you. Vic, it isn't much to ask. 	Just this one time. Please. One tiny favor." 
</p>
<p>	His feelings more than a touch hurt, Vic gave a put-upon sigh and shrugged 	as if it didn't matter. "Fine, Mac. I won't cook tonight. In fact, I won't 	ever inflict my cooking on you again." 
</p>
<p>	Half expecting an apology, he sat back and shot a reproving look at Mac. 
</p>
<p>	"Thank god for small favors," Mac responded. 
</p>
<p>	"Go to hell, Ramsey!" 
</p>
<p>	"On my way there now, Mansfield." 
</p>
<p>	"You calling my place hell?" 
</p>
<p>	Mac smirked. "Well... maybe not hell. Purgatory." 
</p>
<p>	"Fine," Vic announced emphatically. He leaned forward and tapped the driver 	on the shoulder. "After you drop me off, you can take this guy to his own 	place." 
</p>
<p>	"Fine," Mac sneered. 
</p>
<p>	"Fine," Vic sneered back. 
</p>
<p>	The driver shrugged. Another couple of drunks. Nothing new in the world 	there. 
</p>
<p>	As soon as the cab pulled up in front of Vic's building, he hurriedly 	scrambled out of the back seat. Unfortunately, he forgot about the uneven 	sidewalk and ended up on his face within two steps. 
</p>
<p>	"Jesus Christ, Victor!" Mac laboriously clambered out of the cab and reached 	down to haul his partner to his feet. 
</p>
<p>	Swaying unsteadily, trying to regain his balance, Vic leaned against Mac. 	Mac abruptly found himself wondering at why it felt...so... good, yeah, that 	was it. It was good. Having Vic leaning on him, against him... In fact, Vic 	was warm and smelt good, too. He didn't push Vic away, as he would have done 	under other circumstances. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered 	something about it being entirely inappropriate for him to be standing 	there, paralytic, letting Vic lean on him. 
</p>
<p>	The rolling down of the window behind them shattered his reverie. "Hey!" 	shouted the driver. 
</p>
<p>	Vic cursed under his breath and dug his hand into his pocket, withdrawing 	his wallet, and stumbled back to the cab. 
</p>
<p>	Mac drew a deep breath to try and clear his head, then turned to go into the 	building.  He'd completely forgotten that he'd sworn he wasn't going to stay 	at Vic's place. 
</p>
<p>	Other considerations had taken pre-eminent position in his sluggish brain. 	/That did NOT just happen. It didn't./ 
</p>
<p>	Once they'd arrived at Vic's apartment, Mac waited with ill-concealed 	impatience while Vic located his keys then fumbled to unlock the door. 	Finally, after Vic had managed to try every key—except the correct one—dropping the ring onto the floor several times in the process, Mac snorted 	in disgust and grabbed them from Vic's hand. 
</p>
<p>	"Allow me," he offered gallantly. On his first try, Mac got the door opened 	and ushered Vic into the living room. 
</p>
<p>	"My hero," Vic said sarcastically. 
</p>
<p>	Mac immediately made for the kitchen—and the cabinet where Vic stored his 	liquor. Vaguely curious, Victor followed. "You're gonna have ANOTHER drink?" 	He asked incredulously. 
</p>
<p>	"Yes, I am," was the defiant response. "And so are you." 
</p>
<p>	Vic sighed. "No, I'm not." 
</p>
<p>	"Yes, you are," came the disembodied reply that floated from the depths of 	the cabinet. Mac emerged a moment later with a bottle of scotch. 
</p>
<p>	"Hey, you can't just open that. That's mine," Vic said, coming forward to 	grab it from him. "C'mon, Mac; at least get an open bottle. Give- give me—that—" They were grappling over it now. 
</p>
<p>	Mac stepped back, wresting the bottle from Vic's hold with a firm pull 	backwards. As Vic opened his mouth to complain, Mac said, "Okay, okay! Get 	an open one then." He handed it back with a sardonic look. 
</p>
<p>	As his partner turned away, Mac found himself struggling to suppress the 	sudden mental image of grappling with Victor on the floor, and not over 	possession of a stupid bottle. Hm-mmm...  The jolt of arousal that 	accompanied the image couldn't be denied.  Maybe they'd been going about 	this all the wrong way. Suddenly sure things were about to get very 	interesting, Mac grinned—widely. 
</p>
<p>	Vic had put the whisky back and, after a moment, turned with a bottle 	gripped triumphantly in his hand.  There was only a couple inches of liquor 	left in the bottom. "See?" he waved it slightly in the air between them, 	"Just enough." He stopped, frowning suspiciously when he noticed Mac's grin. 	"What is it now?" 
</p>
<p>	Mac continued to grin, tilting his head slightly to regard Vic, and said, 	"Nothing. Just thinking. You realize we didn't argue ONCE while we were 	waiting in the hospital, worried about Li Ann, right?" 
</p>
<p>	Vic stared at him then shook his head briefly, as if made dizzy by the 	sudden change of topic. He looked about him, and then went to the cupboard 	to get two clean glasses. Putting them down, he opened the bottle and poured 	a healthy helping, finishing off the last of the scotch. "So? So what?" 
</p>
<p>	"You DID notice that, right?" Mac was insistent. 
</p>
<p>	Vic picked up one of the glasses, and hesitated, before chugging it back. 	His eyes watering slightly, he said, "Yeah. I noticed that you had the 	decency to restrain yourself. You actually managed to keep your mouth shut 	for, well, several hours, wasn't it?" He turned his head to regard Mac. "You 	want a medal for that, or something?" 
</p>
<p>	"Victor, Victor," Mac sighed. "Here I am on the verge of an epiphany 	regarding our relationship and you're making fun of me. I'm hurt, Vic. 	Deeply hurt." 
</p>
<p>	Vic stared in amazement. "Mac, have you lost your mind? We don't have a ... 	a RELATIONSHIP. We're co-workers, partners, we both loved Li Ann and were 	both rejected by her. That's all we have in common." 
</p>
<p>	Lifting his glass to his lips, Vic blinked when he saw that it was empty. 	How the hell had that happened? He set his glass on the counter and returned 	to the cabinet for the recently rescued unopened bottle. 
</p>
<p>	"Hey," Mac protested. "Thought we couldn't open that one. Decide not to save 	it for that special occasion—you know, if you ever actually manage to get 	a date?" 
</p>
<p>	Choosing to ignore Mac's needling, Vic concentrated on opening the bottle 	and pouring himself another drink. "Let's go in and sit down, Mac." Vic 	headed rather unsteadily out to the living room, glass in one hand, bottle 	in the other, and collapsed bonelessly onto the couch. 
</p>
<p>	Picking up the second glass though he no longer wanted a drink, Mac drifted 	in Vic's wake and followed his example, sitting himself down a few inches 	over on the same couch. 
</p>
<p>	Vic glared at him momentarily. Then returned to contemplating the amber 	liquid in his glass. 
</p>
<p>	Christ, talk about thick-skinned, thought Mac. Trying to rile Victor now was 	proving even more difficult than reasoning with him. It had to be the 	scotch. It had to be. Mac decided to take another tack. "Are you planning on 	sharing that, or keeping it all to yourself?" 
</p>
<p>	Victor handed him the bottle without a word. 
</p>
<p>	As he poured, Mac rattled on. "You're right, of course. Why bother trying to 	plan for any kind of a future? Our asses belong to the Director; our brains 	too. Put them on the line every day for...what? But you're getting to the 	end of the road, aren't you, old boy?" He winked at Vic, cheerily. 
</p>
<p>	Vic glared at him. "What's that supposed to mean?" 
</p>
<p>	Mac shrugged. "Well, you're running out of options, I'd say. Unless you're 	planning to, like, make a move, like, on Jackie," he said, in an irritating 	imitation of the Janczyk ex-mob queen. 
</p>
<p>	Vic snorted, meaningfully. "I'd have to get through your favorite pal, 	Dobrinsky. At least I'm not still in love with Li Ann. Unlike you, poor 	unfortunate fool that you are." He stopped at Mac's curious frown in his 	direction. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue, Ramsey? This is a first! 	I'll drink to that." He reached ineffectually for the bottle of scotch. 
</p>
<p>	Mac kept it just slightly out of his reach. "Vic? What are you implying?" 
</p>
<p>	"Not IMPLYING anything. You're still in love with Li Ann, and we both know 	it." 
</p>
<p>	So incensed was he by the smug words, Mac momentarily forgot to protect the 	scotch from Vic's grasping hand. He stared; silently amazed that his partner 	had completely missed the fact that Mac was long recovered from his romantic 	involvement with Li Ann. 
</p>
<p>	Vic poured himself a generous shot of single malt and settled back into the 	comfortable couch, proud of the fact that he'd managed to strike Mac 	speechless. He pointedly ignored the glare Mac was sending his way and 	sipped his drink with a contented sigh. 
</p>
<p>	"I," Mac announced indignantly, "am SO over Li Ann. YOU'RE the one still 	carrying a torch for her." 
</p>
<p>	"Bullshit." 
</p>
<p>	"No, Vic, truth. You've never accepted the fact that she turned you down," 	Mac informed him in serious tones. "You should probably see someone about 	that, you know." 
</p>
<p>	But Vic was basking in the fact that he'd gotten to Mac and he merely 	smiled. "You can kid yourself about it all you want, Ramsey. I've seen the 	way you watch her. When you think no-one's looking." 
</p>
<p>	Mac grinned at him though, at this. "Why, Vic, I didn't know you cared. How 	long has this been going on, then?" 
</p>
<p>	Vic stopped, a little lost. "How long has WHAT been going on?" 
</p>
<p>	"You. Looking. Watching me." Mac waved the bottle expressively. "You can 	tell me, Victor. I won't laugh. I promise." 
</p>
<p>	Victor scowled at him. "I'm an operative for a shadowy government agency, 	remember? It's my JOB to watch people." 
</p>
<p>	Mac snorted derisively. "Try again, Vic. It's your job to watch criminals 	and evildoers—not me. And you have been watching me... 'specially my ass." 
</p>
<p>	Choking on the mouthful of scotch he'd been in the process of swallowing, 	Vic stared at Mac from reddened eyes. "Your ASS?" 
</p>
<p>	Grinning, Mac leaned to one side and patted the ass in question. "Yes, Vic—This ass. You seem to have fixated on it lately." 
</p>
<p>	He wanted to respond with a suitably crushing comment, but Vic found himself 	staring at Mac's rear end in silent wonder. He had to admit, it was a rather 	nice ass, as asses went—but... 
</p>
<p>	"I have NOT been staring at your ass. Or any other portion of your anatomy, 	for that matter." 
</p>
<p>	Mac frowned in puzzlement. "But—you HAVE. In fact, you're doing it right 	now, Vic." 
</p>
<p>	Vic tore his eyes away and gruffly said, "Maybe if you stopped... doing 	that." 
</p>
<p>	Mac tutted, shaking his head. "You're losing your touch." He leaned forward 	and took the bottle back again. "One more for the road?" He poured another 	whiskey, aware of Vic's fuming beside him. "It's okay, Victor. I'm 	flattered, actually. No, really, I am. But you realize what this means, 	don't you?" 
</p>
<p>	Acidly Vic replied, "That you're a shameless exhibitionist with delusions of 	grandeur about your own ass? What makes you think that I've noticed it 	before just now, with you," he made an irritated motion in the air with his 	hand, "waving it around like that?" He charged on before Mac could reply, 	"Besides, this says more about you than it does me. Why have you been 	watching ME?" 
</p>
<p>	Mac raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me? Watching you?" He laughed. 
</p>
<p>	Vic donned his 	I'm-being-patient-with-you-because-you-can't-help-being-an-idiot expression 	and spoke slowly, as if to a child. "Mac, I've noticed you watching me. I 	know you think I don't see, but I do. You're younger than I am," Vic said, 	ignoring Mac's snort with dignity, "and I suppose you're still a little ... 	curious. Sexually, I mean. It happens, I'm the closest male friend you have 	and so you've fixated your interest on me. It'll pass." 
</p>
<p>	Rather than the loudly defensive denial he'd expected, Vic was stunned to 	see Mac blush and turn his face away. 
</p>
<p>	Uh oh. 
</p>
<p>	"Mac?" 
</p>
<p>	Trying to recover his poise, which he feared was long gone by now, Mac 	cleared his throat. "Actually, you're not. My, uh, 'friend', that is." 	Jesus, that sounded lame even to him. Damn. Shit. HELL. "-And—and anyway, 	you don't think I'm going to believe that coming from you, do you? You just 	don't want to admit what you REALLY think of me." He tried to adopt a 	knowing smile but he figured it probably looked rather sickly at this point. 	His face was hot and he swore to himself silently, wondering if it was as 	red as it felt. 
</p>
<p>	Vic was still staring at him, realizing that he'd called Mac's bluff. 	Finally. At last. He'd managed to gain the perfect upper hand over Mac. 	Strangely, he didn't feel very jubilant at being right. In reality, he'd 	just been shooting off his mouth, looking to piss the other man off, with 	his pointed summation of Mac's problem... 
</p>
<p>	And now... Now it appeared he'd been right.  Mac really DID have... what? A 	curiosity? Fascination? Infatuation? With HIM? Outlandish as that idea at 	first seemed, the violent blush that still hadn't completely faded from 	Mac's face gave it credence that couldn't be ignored.  Vic attempted to 	swallow with a suddenly dry throat. 
</p>
<p>	He said, his voice roughened, "Mac, are you—" 
</p>
<p>	Mac jumped up and said, almost angrily, "It's always about you, isn't it? 	Poor Victor, the one with all the reasons in the world to feel sorry for 	himself. Maybe if you stopped trying to justify your existence by attempting 	to save basket-cases and mending broken wings, you'd see that you're not the 	only one who feels anything." 
</p>
<p>	Vic gaped at the other man.  Where the hell had that come from?  And did he 	really mean the unprovoked attack? 
</p>
<p>	Mac sighed, frustrated.  Running a shaking hand through his curly hair, he 	turned away, pacing restlessly in the crowded space between the sofa and the 	coffee table.  He hadn't meant to say that; hadn't meant to say anything 	like that at all, in fact. What he'd wanted to say was something far 	different.  He'd just felt so exposed, so vulnerable... 
</p>
<p>	Mac took a deep breath, and forced himself to regain his inner balance, 	despite the alcohol in his blood. Looking down at his seated partner, once 	more in control of himself, he stated, "Victor, let's just—just drop it. I 	don't think I want to have this conversation with you, right now especially. 	I mean, let's just forget about it; call it a night, and tomorrow we can 	carry on like it never happened. Just like always. Right?" 
</p>
<p>	The guarded defensiveness of Mac's words touched something deep inside of 	Vic. He didn't want to hurt Mac—not really. Leaving things off here, 	trying to pretend that this stilted, awkward excuse for a conversation had 	never taken place, would be the end of whatever Mac and he meant to each 	other. 
</p>
<p>	"I don't think we can do that, Mac." Vic rose from the couch and turned to 	face the younger man. "I, for one, won't be able to forget. And, I'm not 	sure that I'd want to, even if it were possible. We need to talk about 	this," he said steadily. 
</p>
<p>	Mac stared at the glass in his hand with desperate intensity. Anything to 	avoid looking into that piercing green gaze. "Victor," he almost whispered 	the word. "I don't think... I'm not sure that there's much to talk about. I 	want you. You're straight. End of discussion." 
</p>
<p>	It was Victor's turn for his face to feel suddenly heated, and he knew it 	was more than the scotch. He'd been plastered for a while now and it hadn't 	felt like this. 
</p>
<p>	Letting the 'fuzziness' of the scotch insulate him, Vic considered his 	partner's words.  The thought of Mac...wanting him... DESIRING him... It set 	off a chain reaction somewhere in the region of his brain, then down to his 	heart, then reaching evil fingers all the way down to his cock. Vic realized 	that despite his inebriated condition, he was responding to Mac's serious 	and open declaration. 
</p>
<p>	He licked his lips and tried to focus. He didn't want Mac walking out of 	here after a statement like that.  He would be certain he'd ruined 	everything between them and there'd be no saving their rather odd 	friendship.  He wanted to talk about this but found himself instead reacting 	physically, with the curious need to feel Mac's body against his again.  It 	was like a tactile flashback to the brief moment outside when they'd arrived 	at the building... There'd been a frisson of illicit excitement in the 	contact between them.  A moment that had been so completely outside of 	normal, familiar reality... 
</p>
<p>	He shook his head. "Mac, you're making assumptions about me again. 
</p>
<p>	"Huh?" Mac stared at Vic, a frown of confusion creasing his brow. "What the 	hell...?" He blinked, reran his last comment through his alcohol-soaked 	brain, and the light slowly dawned. The only assumption he'd made... 
</p>
<p>	"You mean... you mean you're NOT straight?" He asked incredulously. "Victor, 	I am seriously worried about your mental state, here. You are just about the 	straightest man I know." 
</p>
<p>	Vic just smiled. 
</p>
<p>	"Aren't you?" Mac asked, suddenly feeling as if he had somehow fallen into a 	parallel universe—and that the Vic in this particular universe was gaining 	a perverse enjoyment out of driving him mad. 
</p>
<p>	Vic swirled the tiny amount of liquid remaining in his glass, watching it 	with rapt fascination.  It was far easier to look at than the stunned, 	perplexed expression on Mac's face.  He wasn't sure he knew what he was 	doing but the sense of liberation he was gaining from it was too 	exhilarating to ignore.  "Like I said, you assume a lot. You don't know me; 	you think I'm this clueless, hopelessly uptight and 'straighter than an 	arrow' guy... Mac, you don't know the first thing about me. So you just fill 	in the blanks as you go along. Hey," he added, catching a glimpse of Mac's 	wounded expression, "I'm not accusing you—I'm just saying that maybe we 	don't know each other as well as we thought we did. After all, you kind of 	took me by surprise there, with that statement of yours.  Why shouldn't I 	have a few surprises." 
</p>
<p>	Mac shrugged. Deal with it, he told himself, just fuckin' deal with it. It 	was surreal, but hell, it was where he was at the moment. Vic's place. Yeah. 	Okay. He sat back on the couch, leaning backwards, looking up at the 	ceiling. "Vic, just tell me one thing. As crazy as this sounds, are you—do 	you—am I the only one here who's been thinking about, you know, 'us'? As a 	possibility?" 
</p>
<p>	Vic frowned a little. He didn't look over at Mac. He sighed through his nose 	and drained the last of the whiskey from his glass. He was tired. Suddenly, 	he really didn't want to deal with this right now. "Sure. I mean, yeah, I've 	THOUGHT about it. But not in this context." He had to stop and wonder at 	that. What did he want? Did he want Mac? It was one thing to have someone 	wanting him... it was quite another to reciprocate. And Mac was, well, MAC. 	Irritating, annoying... 
</p>
<p>	And, he had to admit as he gazed at his partner, gorgeous. Funny. Smart. 
</p>
<p>	Hell. If he actually made a move—or allowed Mac to make a move—what 	would that mean in the long term? After a few hours pleasure, what would 	happen? Could they go back to the way things were? Did he even want to go 	back... or, did he want to chuck his reservations to the wind and give this 	thing a try. 
</p>
<p>	Whatever the hell 'this thing' turned out to be. 
</p>
<p>	Carefully, Vic leaned forward to set his glass on the table, then carefully 	seated himself beside Mac, their thighs touching lightly. "I... Mac, what do 	you want? From me, I mean." 
</p>
<p>	Mac closed his eyes. "I don't want anything from you, Vic." 
</p>
<p>	Vic regarded him, carefully. The jocular playboy seemed long gone and in his 	place was a Mac that was almost vulnerable. And they were both far too drunk 	to be dissembling at this point. He took in Mac's expression. His partner 	looked—sad? Resigned? Something shifted in Vic and he leaned forward, 	giving in to the impulse. 
</p>
<p>	"Look, let's just leave it. I don't—" The rest of what Mac might have tried 	to say was abruptly cut off by the sensation of a warm, firm and 	surprisingly soft mouth on his. Mac's eyes snapped open. The taste of the 	whiskey mixed with Vic's breath was intoxicating in more ways than one, and 	then he almost moaned with disappointment, as Vic moved back to look into 	his eyes. 
</p>
<p>	"Why don't you put your money where your mouth is?" Vic suggested, a trace 	of humor in his husky, velvet voice.  But when Mac only stared at him like 	he'd finally flipped, he added, "You really want to walk away, leave it like 	this? Mac, I'm not going to be able to forget what you've said. It doesn't 	have to mean anything more than this." He moved in once again to press 	another slow kiss on Mac's paralyzed lips. Raising up only a millimeter, he 	smiled and whispered, "Let's find out what it is before we throw it away. 	Okay?" 
</p>
<hr/>
<p> Mac opened his mouth to respond.  Luckily, Vic swooped down and captured 	his lips before he could say anything too embarrassingly revealing about 	just exactly how long and how badly he'd been wanting exactly this. 
</p>
<p>	A sly tongue slipped past his lips and teeth and Mac's higher brain 	functions decided to take the rest of the night off.  His world narrowed to 	include only Vic—the way he tasted, the warmth that seemed just to roll 	off of him and envelop Mac.  And his hands... damn!  Victor's clever, clever 	fingers carefully traced the line of his neck, his shoulders, and his arms. 
</p>
<p>	Someone groaned—Mac couldn't be sure, but he suspected he was the source 	of the rather embarrassingly desperate sound.  And he couldn't have possibly 	cared less.  No, he had other far more important things to worry about. 	Like, how to get his muscles back under conscious control so that he could 	do more than sit in stunned stillness, his hands hanging uselessly at his 	sides.  God, he wanted to explore this amazing man fate had tossed into his 	lap.  He wanted to touch.  To taste.  To FEEL. 
</p>
<p>	Another groan and... Yes!  Somehow, Mac's body had remembered what to do, 	automatic responses kicking in even though his mind was currently unable to 	function.  With a move he could never quite recall, he managed to maneuver 	until he was reclining on the couch, anchored in place by the weight of 	Vic's body. 
</p>
<p>	The sheer deliciousness of this position sent a lightning like jolt of 	sensation through his system that was almost enough to make him come right 	then and there. Gasping as Vic's mouth trailed over his chin, down his neck, 	Mac struggled for control.  Damn.  Those beautiful, hot lips nibbling most 	delightfully on his sensitive skin were driving him crazy.  Tipping his head 	back to allow Vic better access, Mac stared upwards, contemplating the 	ceiling in an attempt to slow down his raging libido.  Some tiny rational 	corner of his mind made the absent observation that there was an awful lot 	of dust on the ceiling light above his head—and what was that.... 
</p>
<p>	The light fixture had a tiny, glowing red dot that was just visible because 	of the odd angle from which he was viewing it.  Mac closed his eyes, 	disgusted at the evidence of the Director's meddling in Vic's life. 	Knowing, however, that there was little to be done about it, he struggled to 	forget about it, her, their job, even Li Ann, the whole kit and caboodle. 
</p>
<p>	But Vic noticed the sudden cooling of his response and pulled back up to 	stare down into his face.  Vic's expression was glazed, his pupils dilated 	and his face flushed with arousal, but concern and confusion were also 	clearly evident. Mac found himself slightly shaken by the fire in Vic's 	eyes, the eager intensity of his desire. 
</p>
<p>	"What is it?" Vic asked, roughly, as if finding the effort of holding back a 	strain. 
</p>
<p>	Mac shook his head slightly, not willing to let this moment escape. 	"Nothing. Just—no, it's nothing." 
</p>
<p>	Vic stared at him, going still. "You're having second thoughts," he stated, 	his eyes narrowing. "Aren't you?" 
</p>
<p>	"No.  No, I'm not," Mac exclaimed, and brought up his hands to cradle either 	side of Vic's face, pulling him down once more. 
</p>
<p>	Warm, wonderful, wet and hot, oh God... This was better. Much better in 	fact. He no longer cared what the Director saw or thought. That bitch wasn't 	going to ruin the best thing that had happened to him in longer than he 	could remember. 
</p>
<p>	And then the way that Vic carefully, exquisitely ground his hips against 	Mac's, deliberately and slowly, bringing their hard erections into a teasing 	contact through the fabric of their respective jeans, sent all further 	thought flying from Mac's mind. 
</p>
<p>	Mac was twisting and arching under him with such enthusiasm that Vic feared 	he'd be thrown right onto the floor.  He used one knee to nudge Mac's long 	legs apart and settled his own weight between them, holding onto the arm of 	the sofa with one hand.  A little insurance never hurt.  He settled in, his 	free hand cupping the side of Mac's face, and started tracing a careful 	route from jawline to throat to... What the fuck was this material doing in 	his way? 
</p>
<p>	Impatiently, Vic lowered his hand to tug at the hem of Mac's shirt.  "Off," 	he demanded.  "Take it off, Mac." 
</p>
<p>	With a low grunt of approval, Mac struggled with the shirt.  Vic rode the 	move out, loving the way the long, lean body undulated beneath him.  A 	delighted smile bowed his pouty lips as the younger man wiggled 	delightfully. 
</p>
<p>	"Victor," Mac protested breathlessly.  "You're not making this any easier." 	He pushed at Vic's shoulders with both hands.  "Get up." 
</p>
<p>	"Nope."  Vic's grin widened.  "I like where I am." He sighed and settled 	even more of his weight on Mac with a contented wriggle.  "In fact, I like 	it a lot." 
</p>
<p>	"Vi-ic," Mac whined.  He stopped moving and fixed a reproachful brown gaze 	on the face smiling down at him.  "The least you could do is help me out 	here..." 
</p>
<p>	"Oh, believe me, I intend to, Ramsey," Vic promised in a raspy whisper, a 	rather devilish glint coming to his eye, one that Mac really hadn't seen 	before.  Mac actually gulped, wondering what he had unleashed in Victor. 	And, for the first time, concerned whether or not he could handle it. 
</p>
<p>	The phone rang, cutting into what Vic was about to say, making both men 	start guiltily and say, "Damn!" in unison. 
</p>
<p>	"That <i>bitch</i>," Vic growled, the sound of it sending an arrow of lust 	darting through Mac's entire body. 
</p>
<p>	Vic leaned over him, his eyes closed, a look of extreme annoyance marring 	his beautiful features... Mac caught himself grinning up at Vic like a 	mindless high-school kid with a crush.  Let the Director just sweat this one 	out—for it couldn't be anyone else, not at this time of night. 
</p>
<p>	But Vic sat up; moving back to sit on the end of the couch once more, 	catching his breath and listening as the answering machine cut in. 
</p>
<p>	After Vic's brief, almost terse, greeting message, there was a pause. 	Then... silence.  For several beats, nothing but silence.  Such weight did 	that silence bear, Mac found himself staring at the machine with growing 	apprehension.  He swallowed heavily and glanced up at Vic—only to find 	that his partner was glaring at the machine too. 
</p>
<p>	"Victor," came the often hated, much feared and always to be avoided sound 	of the Director's voice, "and Mac."  Heavy sigh.  "Boys, I must say that, 	while I've been expecting this for quite some time, I DO hope that you'll 	not let your... hormones get the best of you." 
</p>
<p>	Mac's mouth dropped open and he blinked.  "Huh?"  He turned to look at Vic. 	"What's she talking about?" 
</p>
<p>	"I'm talking about safe sex, gentlemen," she answered smoothly. 
</p>
<p>	Vic sighed and leaned his head back.  "That's not why she's doing this," he 	insisted harshly.  "She wants to ruin the <i>mood</i>!"  This last word was 	hurled with surprising force and volume towards the ceiling. 
</p>
<p>	Mac's body had that distant, anesthetized feeling that comes from too much 	alcohol and too much adrenaline.  He was feeling no pain and found his 'care 	factor' hovering somewhere down around zero.  He shrugged.  "Hey, let her 	try, if she has to.  She can't—" 
</p>
<p>	"I can and I will," the disembodied voice interjected.  "I may not have been 	able to get you here before now but if you will insist on playing, you'll do 	so responsibly.  I shouldn't have to remind you." 
</p>
<p>	Mac stared, his jaw dropping.  He looked up, automatically, at the glowing 	red dot.  "You're giving us Sex-Ed lessons, now?  Over the phone?"  He 	grinned at the absurdity of it.  "Hey, I'm game if you are, Vic.  She can 	give us tips if we need help." 
</p>
<p>	But Vic swiftly sat up and stalked over to the answering machine, ripping 	the cord out of the wall and throwing the machine on the floor.  It bleeped 	once but didn't appear to break. 
</p>
<p>	He passed a weary hand over his face then stood, hands on his lean hips, as 	he studied the discarded hunk of electronics.  "You know," he finally said 	contemplatively, "the worst of it is that she's obviously watching us.  The 	timing's just too good."   Looking over at Mac, he deliberated in silence 	for a moment.  Apparently reaching a decision, he started for the bedroom, 	pulling off his shirt enroute and saying, "Are you coming in, or would you 	rather stay out here and sleep on the couch?" 
</p>
<p>	"Hey," Mac protested, as Vic disappeared from view.  Rising to his feet, he 	followed along in Victor's wake.  Avoiding the shirt was easy.  The jeans he 	nearly stumbled over in the doorway though, caught him by surprise.  "Shit," 	he cursed, struggling to avoid falling when his feet became tangled in the 	heavy fabric. 
</p>
<p>	"Hurry UP, Mac." 
</p>
<p>	Hearing the bedsprings protest, Mac knew that Vic was already in the big 	bed.  Forewarned was not, however, forearmed, in this instance.  In fact, 	Mac concluded, there wasn't a warning in the world that could ever possibly 	prepare him to face a naked Victor, sprawled languidly on his side across 	the bedspread—waiting for him. 
</p>
<p>	Mac moistened his suddenly dry-as-the-Sahara lips and seriously considered 	fainting dead away. 
</p>
<p>	Vic watched him from under sinfully long eyelashes; his jade eyes the merest 	flash of color.  Waiting until he was certain he had the younger man's 	attention, Victor raised the hand not propping up his head to his own 	tumescent cock, lazily stroking himself.  After a moment, he released the 	now fully erect organ and held the hand out to Mac in imperious invitation. 	"Come here to me, Mac." 
</p>
<p>	Mac moved woodenly forward, drawn to the sight like a sailing ship about to 	dash itself upon the rocks, lured by the siren's call of Vic's nakedness and 	the tone in his voice.  Automatically divesting himself of his clothing as 	he went, Mac came to the edge of the bed and crawled onto it, devouring Vic 	with his eyes. 
</p>
<p>	"I didn't know, I-."  He stopped and cleared his throat.  "I didn't think 	you were this beautiful," he stammered, wondering where he'd found the nerve 	to say THAT.  Then wondered why the hell he was spouting bad poetry and 	decided to blame it on the liquor.  But there was a niggling voice in the 	back of his head that said he'd always known exactly how beautiful Victor 	was. 
</p>
<p>	Vic blinked at him, obviously surprised at the statement.  Nonetheless, he 	simply said, "Are you just going to sit there?  How many times does one 	usually have to invite you to have sex with them, anyway?" 
</p>
<p>	Suddenly remembering he prided himself on being an unflappable man of 	action, Mac forced himself to push his sense of awe aside before this 	amazing opportunity passed him by. 
</p>
<p>	Lurching into motion, Mac crawled forward until his knees were tight against 	Vic's chest.  His legs folded under him, Mac leaned forward to trail a hand 	rather too reverently over the muscular shoulder, across the bare chest and 	cute belly, then up along the curve of rather lovely thighs and down to 	Vic's knee.  Mac's eyes had followed the passage of his hand and now he 	looked back up to Vic's face, to see a large question mark dancing in bright 	green eyes. 
</p>
<p>	Mac realized that now that he'd finally gotten something he'd been wishing 	for, he really had no idea what to do with it.  Despite his womanizing 	reputation as a carouser and a smoothie, he'd never had much traffic with 	men.  And despite the gossip that circulated at the Agency—the rumor mill 	had him doing everyone, regardless of gender, at least once—he'd not given 	the mechanics of such an undertaking much thought. 
</p>
<p>	And even if he had considered the idea of sex with men, Mac certainly hadn't 	considered Vic as even a remote possibility.  He tried to dredge up some 	saliva as he licked his lips and said, lowly, "I want this, I want you." 	Mac suddenly regretted all the alcohol he'd consumed earlier, realizing that 	the drinks really weren't helping him now, and that he was making a complete 	and utter ass of himself in front of Victor. 
</p>
<p>	Hell, he thought bitterly, what else is new.  I might as well go the whole 	mile.  "I think I've wanted it for a long time." 
</p>
<p>	Dryly, Vic raised a brow at him and said, "Only just now figuring that out? 	Look, why don't get you get closer."  Sitting up, he grabbed Mac by 	surprisingly tense shoulders and pulled until the younger man was completely 	wrapped in his arms.  With a smooth, practiced move, Vic rolled them so that 	Mac was on the bottom once more. 
</p>
<p>	Vic shook his head with a slight smile, looking down into Mac's wide, 	startled eyes.  "You're new at this, aren't you?" 
</p>
<p>	"I am not!"  Mac tried for indignant but was embarrassed to hear the words 	come out as more of a breathless squeak.  "I've probably had more sex than 	you," he added in an attempt at bravado. 
</p>
<p>	"I mean with men, idiot," Victor teased, finding the flustered expression in 	the brown eyes as charming as the blush that painted the high cheekbones. 
</p>
<p>	"Oh.  Well, um, yeah," Mac reluctantly admitted, feeling more than a little 	vulnerable at this point. 
</p>
<p>	Quickly closing his eyes, Vic shielded the triumph his now confirmed 	suspicions afforded him.  No need to embarrass the kid, or even, god forbid, 	scare him off.  Because he knew now—no more doubts—that Mac was a... 	Damn.  He swallowed heavily, stunned at the arousal the mere thought of his 	partner's virginity caused. 
</p>
<p>	Hard on the heels of that wave of masculine satisfaction came the 	realization of the enormity of the trust Mac was showing in him.  Mac was 	not a person to expose his weaknesses to anyone—not unless he trusted them 	completely.  Then, to Vic's further dismay, the enormity of the trust he was 	offering to Mac became clear in his mind.  This had suddenly become far more 	than just a drunken buddy fuck. 
</p>
<p>	Mac's quiet voice broke into his reverie, "Vic?"  The older man could hear 	the worried frown clearly in that one word. 
</p>
<p>	"Shh," he hushed Mac.  Opening his eyes, Vic smiled.  He raised one hand and 	laid two fingers across Mac's lips.  "We're fine," Vic murmured, gently 	tracing a line around that wonderfully pouty mouth.  Moving slowly, he 	lowered his head so that he could map the line of Mac's neck with his teeth. 	 He nibbled lightly at the smooth skin, stopping every inch or so to whisper 	to Mac. 
</p>
<p>	"I want you, too," he assured. 
</p>
<p>	"I need you," he admitted. 
</p>
<p>	Mac tilted his head back at that, closing his eyes and baring his throat. 	The silent plea embedded in the simple gesture tore at something Vic had 	kept carefully hidden from himself. 
</p>
<p>	He was offering Mac far more than kindness and caring.  He was offering far 	more than mutual trust. 
</p>
<p>	He was offering Mac everything. 
</p>
<p>	"Please, Mac," Victor begged, suddenly overwhelmed by the strength of his 	feelings. 
</p>
<p>	Riding the crest of Victor's amazingly effective seduction, Mac was way past 	thought, far beyond the ability to comprehend what Vic was requesting.  He 	opened his eyes and looked back up at Vic, blinking a couple of times, 	trying to clear his fuddled mind.  This all felt like a dream, an incredibly 	powerful and sensuous dream that was sweeping him away with the force of an 	unstoppable tide. 
</p>
<p>	What did Vic want?  Why had he stopped that touching and kissing that felt 	so incredible?  Meeting the older man's intense gaze, it finally dawned on 	him that he'd been asked a question.  That Vic was asking permission to take 	this farther... To do more than merely rutting on each other, nakedly 	squirming on Victor's bed... 
</p>
<p>	And no one was more surprised than Mac when he realized it was exactly what 	he wanted. "Anything.  Whatever you want, Victor." 
</p>
<p>	Grinning, widely, easily, Mac tried to lighten the suddenly intense mood. 	"You didn't have to ask...  Although, I do have to admit I like the way you 	sound when you're begging.  It's kind of a new one for you." 
</p>
<p>	The bravado fading as quickly as it came, Mac lowered his eyes and shyly bit 	his lip, wondering what the next stage really was.  "So, uh, how do we—what happens now?" 
</p>
<p>	Vic swallowed.  He hadn't really expected to be going all the way with this. 	 In fact, to be honest, he hadn't expected to be here, period.  But his own 	natural reticence—and the very real awareness that he'd been driven in 	here by his need to defy the Director—haunted him somewhat.  Not to 	mention that both Mac <i>and</i> he might regret it later. 
</p>
<p>	Taking a deep breath, he decided to just lay everything out for his partner, 	to give him the opportunity to make an informed decision rather than being 	carried away by the heat of the moment.  "Mac, I want to fuck you, I want to 	be inside of you when I come."  Just saying the words was an incredible 	rush.  "Are you up for that?  I mean, really?  And not just physically.  Are 	you ready to face how this will change things?  You're not going to go all 	weird in the morning and act like a despoiled virgin or anything, are you?" 	At Mac's frown, he added quickly, regretting the way that last bit had come 	out, "I just want you to be sure, is all." 
</p>
<p>	Mac's eyes narrowed as he realized Vic was offering HIM a way out.  Jesus. 	Sometimes the guy was just too self-sacrificing for his own good.  Mac 	snaked both hands up to grip Vic's face and bring him down to kiss him 	soundly.  Heatedly.  Letting them both up eventually for air, he said, "I'm 	sure, Vic.  I'm really sure.  All right?" 
</p>
<p>	That inner knot of doubt and tension released its hold on Vic and he smiled 	down at Mac.  "Yeah," he said, slowly, huskily.  "It's more than all right." 	 And began to slide down Mac's length, all the way down his body. 
</p>
<p>	Mac yelped as Vic's mouth opened on his hard cock, slowly sucking him in. 	Easily controlling Mac's helpless surge of response, Vic anchored the 	younger man in place with one hand on a slim hip and his own weight resting 	on the other hip and thigh.  Self-preservation and logistics taken care of, 	Vic concentrated on driving Mac crazy. 
</p>
<p>	Which—to Vic's complete lack of surprise—proved incredibly easy.  Not to 	mention gratifying.  Mac was hugely responsive—amazingly so, even. 	Whether this was the man's normal response in such situations, or a 	Vic-induced state, he didn't care.  He just hung on, relishing every moan, 	every twitch, every single restless movement of Mac's hands as they roamed 	aimlessly over Vic's head, neck, and shoulders.  He'd tensed when the long 	fingers had woven their way into his hair, but Mac never pushed or pulled, 	didn't insist.  He only stroked, combed, caressed. 
</p>
<p>	Opening his eyes and glancing up the long body, Vic caught Mac's dazed 	stare.  Daring Mac to hold his gaze, Vic lowered his head, swallowing as the 	head of Mac's cock hit the back of his throat.  Carefully, moving very 	slowly, Vic eased down until his lips brushed against wiry pubic hair. 
</p>
<p>	"Jesus," Mac breathed. 
</p>
<p>	Vic raised his head, a tiny increment at a time, filing away every gasp and 	reverent sigh from Mac in his memory for future contemplation and enjoyment. 	 Teasingly, he released his hold on Mac's erection, nuzzling lightly along 	its length. 
</p>
<p>	With a muffled groan, Mac couldn't help bucking upwards a little at the 	loss.  "Jesus, please, Vic, come on, please," he whispered hoarsely. 
</p>
<p>	Vic was grinning at him.  Surely... he wouldn't leave him like this.... 	Mac's mind was whirling, suddenly concerned that this was some sort of 	perverse game of one-up-manship.  The doubt crept over him, then was 	abruptly pushed aside as Vic gripped his cock firmly with one hand, saying, 	"Hold that thought.  I need to get some things." 
</p>
<p>	Mac let out an inaudible sigh of relief.  Vic wasn't just dicking with 	him... Well, yeah, he was, but he wasn't teasing.  Or mocking.  He wasn't 	planning to lead Mac on then leave him wanting.  In fact, as he lay there 	and watched Vic rummaging around in several drawers of the bedside cabinet, 	Mac mused upon the fact that Vic seemed genuinely caring... And more than 	happy to take the lead.  In fact, Vic did indeed seem to know what to do. 	Something about this lingered in his mind. In his lust-clouded, 	alcohol-addled state, he couldn't quite put his finger on why that was 	significant, but he could swear it had something to do with the fact that 	Vic seemed entirely TOO experienced, too okay with this. 
</p>
<p>	Vic was climbing back onto the bed, dressed in only a satisfied smile and 	bearing lube and a box of condoms. 
</p>
<p>	Mac nearly opened his mouth to ask a snide question about the expiration 	date of the products and how long they'd been around when he suddenly 	realized he didn't want to. It was a habit, the sniping, and not a good one 	to indulge in right now. 
</p>
<p>	Vic held up one of the condoms with a Cheshire grin and said, "This is your 	lucky night, Ramsey." 
</p>
<p>	Mac stared at the package in stunned silence as the reality of just what he 	was allowing—hell, asking—Vic to do sank in.  Swamped with nerves and 	wondering if there was a way to back out without coming off as a total 	idiot, Mac decided there were a few more things that really needed to be 	said and redirected his eyes, concentrating on a point just beyond Vic's 	right shoulder. 
</p>
<p>	"I've never, ah, actually—"  Mac closed his mouth, halting the stumbling 	words, and swallowed.  "You'll be... careful?" he asked in a low tone, 	risking a glance at the features of the man hovering over him. 
</p>
<p>	Vic smiled with a gentleness and reassurance Mac had never expected to see 	directed at him. And yet, there it was, backed by a heat that scorched 	through Mac's body, searing his nerve endings and stilling the butterflies 	in his stomach. 
</p>
<p>	Unable to do anything else, Mac arched under the intense green gaze, 	offering himself with a trust he'd never have suspected he had to offer. 	And Vic—<i>thank you, god, thank you</i>—stretched his body atop Mac's, 	claiming his mouth once more in a hungry kiss. 
</p>
<p>	Distracted by the manipulations of Vic's tongue against his own, Mac hadn't 	the presence of mind to complain when the body that covered his so nicely 	shifted to one side.  By the time his dazed brain registered the loss, one 	of Vic's hands had moved to caress his cock, tracing random patterns along 	the shaft. 
</p>
<p>	The light touch was almost tickling, not enough to really provide any real 	satisfaction, and for a moment Mac again wondered what Vic was intending. 	But Vic retracted his hand and was suddenly busy with the condom, unrolling 	it onto his own hard erection and then taking up the lube to slather himself 	with it.  With his other hand, Vic took Mac's leg and began to help him draw 	up his knee and spread his legs farther apart. 
</p>
<p>	"Need to get you ready for this, you know," Vic commented, that gentle smile 	still on his face, comforting and letting Mac know that this was pretty 	standard.  Although it wasn't standard at all to feel Vic's strong, hot 	fingers slick with lube against the crack of his ass, one digit easing its 	way down to slide against his anus and gently slip inside, admitting just 	the tip. 
</p>
<p>	Mac couldn't help tensing at this, despite the fact that the pleasure was 	different, exciting in a completely mind-blowing way when he considered they 	were VIC'S fingers on, er, IN his ass.  And just that single digit made him 	feel so full, he was suddenly sure he couldn't handle something bigger up 	there.  Forget about something the size of Vic's rampant erection.  But 	Victor was relentlessly, soothingly drawing just the one finger in and out, 	getting him used to the sensation.  "You're so tight, so hot," Vic murmured, 	that smoky voice low and curling deep into Mac's body, making his cock 	suddenly leak and twitch in reaction. 
</p>
<p>	A predatory grin lit Vic's face as he realized that Mac was responding to 	his words.  He leaned in a little closer to Mac's ear, continuing his 	probing and stretching of Mac's nether hole, saying, "Do you like this?  Do 	you like having me inside you like this?  Yeah, I think you do..."  He added 	another finger, slowly.  "I think you like it a lot." 
</p>
<p>	Mac inhaled harshly as his sphincter stretched to accommodate a second 	finger.  "Breathe, Mac," Vic whispered into his ear.  "That's it," he 	approved as Mac exhaled, relaxing into his touch.  "Mmm," Vic hummed. 	"You're gonna love this.  I promise you, I'll make it perfect." 
</p>
<p>	He adjusted the angle of his invading fingers, turning and crooking them 	just so... And, yeah.  Oh boy.  Mac nearly bucked them both off of the bed 	in his enthusiastic response. 
</p>
<p>	"Again," he demanded breathlessly.  "Whatever that was, Vic, do it AGAIN." 
</p>
<p>	Vic chuckled.  "Patience is its own reward, grasshopper.  I'll get us there. 	 You just relax and let me—" 
</p>
<p>	Mac bucked again, almost screaming as Vic dragged the tip of his middle 	finger over the sensitive gland, once, twice... a third time. 
</p>
<p>	"Vic, stop." Mac warned urgently.  "You have to," another stroke made Mac 	shudder and roll his head from side to side on the pillow.  "Oh god, 	Vic...VIC!" 
</p>
<p>	Vic, having absolutely no mercy in his soul, bent down and swallowed Mac's 	erection whole. 
</p>
<p>	"Oh FUCK," Mac groaned. 
</p>
<p>	Vic's mouth was full, unable to comment, but his gaze rose again to fasten 	on Mac's face. Mac dragged air into his lungs, wondering why he hadn't 	exploded at the overload of sensations cartwheeling through him under Vic's 	extraordinary attentions. Vic's expression looked positively knowing and 	mischievous. 
</p>
<p>	But the fingers were withdrawn suddenly and Mac cried out at the loss. "No—don't—" 
</p>
<p>	Vic pulled his mouth away from Mac's cock with an audible slurp. "Nice. 	Don't worry, we're just getting started here." He took up a bit more lube 	and reapplied it to his cock. Then began to gather up Mac's legs, a hand 	under each knee. Moving into position, Vic said, "You want it? You want me 	inside you, Mac?" 
</p>
<p>	Mac groaned. "Just fucking <i>do</i> it, Vic! Please!" 
</p>
<p>	Vic was chuckling softly. "Slut," he whispered, a little endearingly, a 	little teasingly as he pressed the head of his cock to Mac's twitching anus. 	 Vic was enjoying the way Mac was actively drawing both his knees up, 	waiting for him, exposing himself, his legs trembling. 
</p>
<p>	With a slow and gentle movement of his hips, Vic started pushing his way 	past the tight ring of muscle guarding Mac's entrance.  Vic remembered his 	own first time, he'd been excited, fearful, and curious in equal measures. 	And his partner had shown such patience—never rushing things, giving him 	plenty of time to grow accustomed to the new sensations—that he'd come out 	of the experience filled with warm pleasure and the knowledge that sex 	between men was something he wanted... needed. 
</p>
<p>	Vowing to himself that he would show Mac the same consideration, leave him 	with the knowledge that male sex was a wondrous experience—something to be 	shared and enjoyed without fear or shame—Vic gazed into Mac's eyes and 	smiled.  "You okay?" 
</p>
<p>	"Yeah," he gasped. "I'm fine, Vic."  He drew in a deep breath as Vic's 	cockhead made its way past his sphincter. 
</p>
<p>	Vic paused, giving Mac a moment to grow accustomed to the reality of having 	a cock up his ass.  "Relax for me, Mac.  Deep breath... Yeah," Vic moaned as 	the tight muscle stretched to accommodate the girth of his penis.  "You're 	perfect, Mac.  Just perfect." 
</p>
<p>	Mac was too drunk on Vic and the intensity of the moment to wonder what he 	meant by 'perfect'.  And breathing seemed to be something that would have to 	take care of itself because the burning and overwhelming feeling of having 	Vic's cock enter him was too much—yet, somehow, not enough.  He managed, 	with a moan, to gasp, "Vic, please, do it, fuck me..." 
</p>
<p>	As Vic obediently slid another inch or two into him, so agonizingly slowly, 	Mac felt his bones go weak and melt.  He belonged to Vic now, just a willing 	and limp body filled with pleasure and wild sensation.  He'd never imagined 	exactly what it would be like, and the reality was far beyond anything he 	had expected.  He was abruptly grateful that Vic was being so patient—in 	his place, Mac wasn't sure he'd have the same restraint. 
</p>
<p>	"Vic," Mac whined.  "What's taking so long?  I want you to fuck me NOW." 
</p>
<p>	"Easy, babe.  Trust me, you don't want me to rush this!"  Vic ran his hands 	over Mac's torso, delighting in the unaccustomed feel of the soft hair on 	his chest, toying with the hard little nipples.  "Just relax.  I'll take 	care of you." 
</p>
<p>	And his words seemed to serve as a sort of tranquilizer on the younger man. 	He relaxed under Vic's ministrations, and his complete trust in Vic's 	promise shone in his eyes.  Suddenly, easily—as if this was meant to be—Vic's cock slid smoothly into that silken passage. 
</p>
<p>	"Oh my god, Vic," Mac said huskily,  "this is... you're... Damn!"  Brown 	eyes reflected Mac's awe.  His joy.  His pleasure. 
</p>
<p>	Vic grinned down at his lover.  "I'll take that as a compliment,"  he 	murmured.  "Now, are you ready for the main event?" 
</p>
<p>	"Jesus, Vic—you mean there's more?" 
</p>
<p>	"Oh yeah.  Much more, Mac." 
</p>
<p>	As Vic began to move, rocking gently in and out, Mac groaned at the feeling 	of being filled by Vic's cock as well as the jolt he felt throughout his 	body when that magic spot inside of him was stimulated.  And Vic kept doing 	it, relentlessly, slowly.  Mac was open-mouthed, his world now centered only 	on the man possessing him.  The Director could drop in through the ceiling, 	arrange a pay-per-view crowd—Dobrinsky could arrive and give a running 	commentary and he wouldn't give a damn. 
</p>
<p>	Fervently, Mac gasped, "Fuck." 
</p>
<p>	Vic's grin took on slightly more evil proportions.  "Yeah, gonna fuck you 	now, Mac.  You ready?"  And pulling back slightly, he thrust into him more 	forcefully, deeper into Mac's ass, smiling at the way Mac whimpered under 	him and squirmed. 
</p>
<p>	"Jesus, Vic, if I were any more ready I'd explode,"  Mac panted. 
</p>
<p>	"I'm not hurting you?" 
</p>
<p>	Wrapping his legs around Vic's back, pulling him even closer, Mac hissed 	with pleasure.  "Dammit, Mansfield, just get on with it already.  You 	feel... This is..." 
</p>
<p>	Vic rotated his hips and Mac gasped as the head of that wonderful invader 	brushed against his prostate again.  "Oh, god," Mac moaned.  "Do that again. 	 Harder.  More." 
</p>
<p>	And for once, no arguments, no protestations—Vic did exactly as he'd 	asked.  Nearly overcome by the repeated stimulation of that sensitive little 	gland, amazed that this was VIC giving him such pleasure, Mac couldn't stay 	the sounds coming from deep in his chest.  Sounds of pleasure beyond 	anything he'd ever experienced in his life.  Unable to take his eyes off of 	Vic's intense face, Mac stared up at his partner with a desperate need. 
</p>
<p>	"Vic," he managed to say in an embarrassingly begging tone.  "Shit, don't 	stop—I'll DIE if you stop."  He released his death grip on the bedspread 	to reach down with one shaking hand to stroke his own cock, not even aware 	of what he was doing. 
</p>
<p>	"Ah ah," Vic admonished, knocking Mac's hand aside.  "That's mine." 
</p>
<p>	Whimpering, Mac flailed momentarily, then his hand returned to grab at the 	cover on the bed, bunching it tightly in his fists. 
</p>
<p>	Vic began to let go now, letting his hips take over with the deeper thrusts 	that he had been desperately holding back.  Sliding easily in and out of 	that tight, clenching, hot little ass, grinding, rotating into Mac with 	every push forward, harder, faster...  Loving the open-mouthed cries as 	Mac's eyes squeezed shut, muscles tensed and little shudders running through 	him under Vic's attentions. 
</p>
<p>	Vic had to bite his lip, and tried to remember that he wanted this to last. 	Keeping an even rhythm, he pumped his cock into Mac slowly, wanting the 	incredible sensations to continue as long as possible.  But, DAMN, he was so 	close, so very close. 
</p>
<p>	Adjusting his weight, Vic wrapped one hand around Mac's weeping erection and 	started stroking.  He closed his eyes, concentrating on making this last 	just one more moment... two... three... Sparks danced before his eyes as he 	held back his orgasm by sheer dint of will. 
</p>
<p>	"YES!" Mac yelled, arching into his touch and sobbing his pleasure.  "Vic... 	Oh, god, Vic ... There!  Just there..." 
</p>
<p>	It was too much.  The overload of Mac's cries and his bucking under Vic 	joined the almost painful need to fuck himself senseless in Mac's welcoming 	ass.  With his cock sheathed in that undulating, hot channel, Vic was 	coming; slamming into Mac again and again, his own voice rising to mingle 	with Mac's and echo around the room. 
</p>
<p>	He automatically jerked Mac's cock in time with each thrust, reveling in the 	wave of pleasure that splashed all throughout his body as he climaxed, Mac 	coming under him at virtually the same moment. 
</p>
<p>	The need for air finally brought Mac out of his post-fuck daze.  "Vic," he 	rasped in a hoarse voice.  "Can't breathe." 
</p>
<p>	Moving sluggishly, Vic slid to one side, pulling out of the younger man and 	disposing of the condom.  After dropping it carelessly onto the floor, he 	pulled Mac's sweaty body close and nuzzled at his hair.  Inhaling deeply, 	enjoying the almost forgotten odors of male sweat and spilled semen, Victor 	allowed himself another moment of languid repose.  Finally, he pulled back 	so that he could see his young lover's face.  "You okay, Mac?" he asked 	hesitantly.  "I didn't hurt you did I?" 
</p>
<p>	Mac snorted, "I'm fine, Vic.  Shit, "fine" doesn't begin to cover it.  That 	was ... well, it was something I'll never forget—you may have ruined me 	for other lovers." 
</p>
<p>	Vic was silent for so long Mac started to worry.  Prying open one heavy 	eyelid, he tried to focus on the nearby features.  "Was it okay for you, 	Vic?  Did I do—- was I all right?" 
</p>
<p>	"Oh yeah, Mac," Vic was quick to reassure.  "You were perfect.  It's been a 	long time and you were—damn—I can't imagine a better lover." 
</p>
<p>	Mac was quiet, Vic's words ringing into a sudden empty stillness.  It was as 	if both men had just heard the recently spoken words and were just beginning 	to understand their significance. 
</p>
<p>	Vic cleared his throat and whispered, "C'mon, let's enjoy this moment—no 	regrets, no thinking, no talking—just for what it is, you know?"  He 	stopped, pausing and licked his lips.  "Maybe we should get some sleep. 	Let's get under the covers." 
</p>
<p>	Feeling like he had been fucked upside down, sideways and back to front from 	last Thursday into next week, Mac obediently crawled in beside Vic, who 	turned off the light and then snuggled against him. 
</p>
<p>	Vic's voice was low.  "Mac?" 
</p>
<p>	Drifting in a haze of post-coital bliss, Mac was slow to respond.  "Hmmm?" 	he finally asked drowsily. 
</p>
<p>	"You don't feel like I coerced you in any way... Do you?" 
</p>
<p>	That opened Mac's eyes in a hurry.  "Coerced?  Are you kidding me, Vic?  I 	was with you all the way." 
</p>
<p>	"Yeah... but I started it—kissed you first—I was pretty aggressive..." 
</p>
<p>	Mac raised his head, meeting Vic's questioning look with one of assurance. 	"Vic, you didn't do ANYTHING I didn't want you to do—I've wanted you for 	ages.  Lucky for me, you recognized that and acted on it." 
</p>
<p>	Vic was quiet.  Then he grinned.  "Ages, huh?  I WAS right."  He kissed Mac, 	holding his lips prisoner for a while before pulling away and adding, "You 	let me know if you feel like a little coercion later on then." 
</p>
<p>	Mac chuckled, low in his throat.  "Oh, I think I'd be up for it.  Later. 	Once my ass recovers.  God, Vic, you're hung." 
</p>
<p>	Vic snickered at him.  "I did ask if you were okay." 
</p>
<p>	Mac answered, dryly, "Yeah, well, we'll see how it is when the shoe's on the 	other foot.  Or in this case, the other dick.  I've had to watch YOUR ass 	bouncing along the halls for too long now." 
</p>
<p>	A jolt of arousal shot through Vic's body at the words.  "Any time, Mac. 	Any time." 
</p>
<p>	Mac licked his lips.  "Really?  You mean that you'd..." 
</p>
<p>	"Not a case of would, Mac."  Vic answered seriously.  "I want you to fuck me—I'd LOVE for you to fuck me." 
</p>
<p>	Brown eyes opened wide in stunned amazement.  "You do?  You would?" 
</p>
<p>	"But," Vic sighed with regret, "I think I've shot my wad for this evening. 	The spirit is willing, however the flesh..." 
</p>
<p>	"In the morning, then?"  Mac asked eagerly. 
</p>
<p>	"Mmm," Vic agreed sleepily.  "In the morning." 
</p>
<p>	Mac yawned and smiled sheepishly.  "'m tired, Vic." 
</p>
<p>	"Then go to sleep," Vic said.  He pulled Mac down to rest against him and 	closed his eyes. 
</p>
<hr/>
<p><a id="notes" name="notes"></a>
</p>
<table>   <tbody>
<tr><td>Title: Veritas 1: In Vino
<br/>	Authors: Jennie, Jami Wilsen and Jamie Joyce
<br/>	Fandom: Once a Thief
<br/>	Pairing: M/V
<br/>	Rating: NC-17
<br/>	Status: New—first in a series
<br/>	Spoilers: Assume all of OaT—just to be on the safe side
<br/>	Archive: Yes, to NickZone, RatB
<br/>	Disclaimers: None of these boys are ours—no money made here—no copyright 	infringement intended.
<br/>	Feedback: Oh, please! [email removed] and [email removed] 
<br/>	Other websites: http://www.squidge.org/~drruthless/jennie/jennieslist.htm 	http://www.saradadevi.com/jami/slash.htm, and our pages at RatB: 	http://www.squidge.org/jennie/jennie.htm 	http://www.squidge.org/jami/jami.htm
<br/>	Notes: Huge thank you to Sue and Laura for the beta.
<br/>	Summary: Vic, Mac, booze, revelations, smut 
</td></tr>
</tbody>
</table>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. II: Post Mortem</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>By Jami Wilsen, Jennie and Jamie Joyce. Vic, Mac, booze, revelations, smut</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <br/>
  <b>Veritas II
</b>
</p>
<p>Post Mortem
<br/>by Jennie, Jami Wilsen and Jamie Joyce
</p>
<p><br/> 	If he could only remember where he'd left his gun last night, Mac would have 	gotten out of bed, taken said gun and shot the sonofabitch that was sawing 	logs in his bedroom. 
</p>
<p>	Unfortunately, not only could he not remember where the hell his weapon was, 	he couldn't recall anything at all about last night.  Nothing.  Nada. 
</p>
<p>	And the way his head was pounding warned him that sudden movement would 	probably be the death of him.  Which, he decided, as the unknown lumberjack 	switched to using a chainsaw, might be a damn fine idea. 
</p>
<p>	He'd just about made up his mind that he'd HAVE to get up and kill the guy, 	no matter how much said activity increased the throbbing in his head, when a 	warm body rolled up next to him—and snored right in his ear.   The start 	of surprise this caused was nothing compared to the shocked jolt he felt 	when an arm draped itself over his midsection and a chin rubbed against his 	right shoulder.  A scratchy chin.  A beard-stubbled chin. 
</p>
<p>	What the fuck!?  Just what the hell had he brought home with him last night? 	Lifting his head to peer blearily through scratchy eyes that watered and 	burned with the need for more sleep, Mac blinked.  Then blinked again.  Then 	he rubbed his eyes. 
</p>
<p>	Nope, hadn't helped the view.  It was still Vic.  Vic, in bed, with him. 	Sleeping beside him....  What the hell? 
</p>
<p>	"Vic, will you please STOP?" Mac groaned in a pathetic whimper.  "Knock it 	off.  You're killing my head." 
</p>
<p>	Victor, with an irritating lack of consideration, ignored him totally and 	kept on snoring. 
</p>
<p>	Annoyed now beyond all ability to remain civil, Mac jerked up a knee and 	roughly pushed the clinging man away.  Mac's knee connected rather hard with 	some part of Vic, but he wasn't too concerned about what part as long as it 	got the other man's buzzsaw of a snore out of his ear.  Victor, however, 	seemed to take exception. 
</p>
<p>	Shooting up in the bed with a suppressed gasp and flailing limbs, Vic was 	momentarily entangled in the covers, nearly pulling them off Mac.  "What?" 	he croaked, his usually deep voice raspy and hoarse.  Blinking dazed green 	eyes, he focused on Mac's scowling features and groaned, "Jesus.  What the 	hell's your problem?"  The next instant, not waiting for a reply, he folded 	in on himself, clutching his head in both hands.  "Jesus," he moaned again. 	Clearly Mac wasn't the only one whose head was throbbing for attention this 	morning. 
</p>
<p>	Mac groused, "My problem is you! Keep it down, can't you?"  The pain in his 	own head was blinding, making coherent speech problematic and not helping 	his temper one bit. Taking one shaky hand from its deathgrip on his abused 	head, Vic reached under the cover to rub, Mac suspected, whatever portion of 	his anatomy he'd kneed. 
</p>
<p>	Mac felt a brief flare of guilt as he watched the older man grimace.  With 	that fair skin, he'd have a bruise for sure.  Keeping his voice low in 	apparent deference to the headache he seemed to have, Victor asked, "Ramsey, 	what the hell are you doing in my bed?" 
</p>
<p>	Widening his focus beyond the main source of his current irritation, Mac 	realized that Vic was right.  This was Vic's apartment.  Vic's bedroom. 	Hell, Vic's bed....  What WAS he doing in Vic's bed?  Mac's eyes widened and 	his headache escalated as snatches of memory from the previous night began 	to filter back through the alcoholic haze that still hung in his mind like 	thick fog.  They were followed quickly with a sense of wounded pride.  Oh 	shit. 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>	Bad.  Whatever Mac was thinking about was bad.  Very, very bad, Vic decided, 	with a growing sense of dread.  No possible way was he up to talking about—well, anything, really.  Not with this hangover.  Not with the way his head 	was pounding and his stomach was roiling.  Especially when one quick glance 	into Mac's eyes revealed doubt and regret... and something else—something 	he wasn't even gonna TRY to identify.  Whatever it was, it would just have 	to wait. 
</p>
<p>	As soon as he came back from the dead (surely he couldn't be ALIVE and feel 	this awful) he'd talk with Mac.  He'd willingly discuss whatever thorny 	problem was clearly preying on the younger man.  Right now, though- 
</p>
<p>	With a groan, Vic closed his eyes, returning his head into the cradle of 	both hands.  As much as he'd like to continue denying it, it was becoming 	more and more apparent that he WAS alive, that it WAS possible to feel this 	horrible and not be dead—or, at least, near death.  Gathering his strength 	and taking deep, even breaths through his nose until his shaky system 	settled a bit, Vic unwillingly accepted that crawling back under the warm 	covers was not an option. 
</p>
<p>	Based on the intensity of the stare he could feel Mac directing at his bowed 	head, his partner was not going to wait on whatever it was he wanted to talk 	about until Victor was feeling more human.  That being the case, he needed 	aspirin, coffee and a shower, not necessarily in that order.  Rolling out of 	bed, Vic stumbled into the bathroom in search of aspirin and a big glass of 	water. 
</p>
<hr/>
<p> 	Naked.  Vic was NAKED.  VIC was naked.  And Mac knew that as soon as the 	older man woke up enough for the realization of THAT to penetrate his 	hangover, Mac was a dead man.  He carefully lifted the edge of the sheet and 	peeked underneath, immediately confirming and compounding his feeling of 	impending doom. Vic wasn't the only one sleeping au natural. 
</p>
<p>	Okay, so, not a dream.  Not an alcohol-induced hallucination.  The vague 	recollections that were becoming clearer as adrenaline burned through his 	system had really happened. 
</p>
<p>	The implications of this were far-reaching and terrifying.  He didn't want 	to think about it.  All he wanted to do, in fact, was turn over and go back 	to sleep.  Sleep was a tried and true method of avoidance and well worth 	dragging out of early retirement.  Suiting action to thought, Mac burrowed 	under the covers and the pillows, enjoying the sensation of the soft cotton 	against his skin.  Mm-mm...the bed smelled kinda nice actually... 
</p>
<p>	His eyes shot open again at this realization.  It smelled nice because it 	was Victor's, in fact, the bedding sort of smelled like Victor.  And the 	image of his partner getting out of this exact bed, naked, was branded onto 	his retinas and burned into his brain.  He could hear the sounds of Vic 	opening and shutting the bathroom cabinet and then the sounds of Vic 	relieving himself in the toilet.  The sound was oddly intimate and fueled 	the scarlet blush that covered Mac's face in a flush of heat.  It was also 	enough to galvanize him out of the warm covers and off the bed.  With a 	pounding head he gingerly collected up his clothes and began hurriedly 	fumbling to put them on.  He didn't want to be undressed when Vic emerged. 
</p>
<p>	In fact, he didn't want to be HERE when Vic emerged.  To that end, Mac 	finished dressing, scurrying from the bedroom and into the living room. 	Snatching up his jacket, Mac began patting down the pockets for his keys as 	he moved through the apartment door. 
</p>
<p>	Coming up empty, he absently repeated the search...then remembered that his 	car was not here.  Fuck! 
</p>
<p>	The door swung open behind him, and Mac just KNEW it was Vic.  He could 	smell him—could FEEL him. 
</p>
<p>	"Mac...?" 
</p>
<p>	Shoulders slumped in defeat, Mac shrugged. "I KNOW, Vic," he said grumpily. 	"Car's not here—and... SHIT! Go ahead and say it—I'm a wimp.  I just... 	I didn't know how to face you this morning."  Slowly, he turned to face his 	partner.  "I... uh, got any aspirin?" he asked hopefully, careful not to 	actually meet Vic's eyes.  "Coffee? Morphine?" 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>	Victor had come into the living room expecting to find Mac sprawled on the 	couch or pacing in front of the windows.  He'd planned to send Mac to the 	kitchen for coffee while he took a quick shower.  Surprise didn't begin to 	cover what he'd felt when he saw his partner, fully but hurriedly dressed, 	scurrying out his apartment door with the guilty stealth of a rat abandoning 	a sinking ship. 
</p>
<p>	Standing framed in the open doorway, Vic regarded the younger man steadily. 	Mac looked ravaged, both inside and out.  No doubt his ass was hurting too, 	a reminder of last night.  A little frown creased between his eyes as he 	said, "Sure, Mac.  If you come back inside you can have all those things. 	And guess what?  As a special bonus, considering our hangovers, I won't even 	make you talk about anything." 
</p>
<p>	Mac gave him an embarrassed smile.  "Gee, thanks, Vic."  The tone was a stab 	at his usual sarcasm but both men noticed it fell far short. 
</p>
<p>	Vic snorted and turned to hold the door open for him. 
</p>
<p>	Mac went back inside.  Vic shut the door behind them and said, "Take off 	your coat and stay awhile.  There's coffee in the kitchen. It's on a timer—should be just about ready.  But I think you're going to have to make do 	without the morphine." 
</p>
<p>	Vic preceded the younger man into the kitchen as he talked and reached into 	a cabinet to take out a clean glass.  Picking up a nearly depleted bottle 	from the counter, he filled the glass with a small amount of whisky. 
</p>
<p>	Mac watched him with consternation.  "What are you <i>doing</i>?" 
</p>
<p>	"Hair of the dog," Vic muttered, downing the glass in one smooth movement. 	He licked his lips and glanced at Mac.  "Doesn't really help the hangover—you just don't care as much." 
</p>
<p>	Mac frowned at him.  "But you just had aspirin..." 
</p>
<p>	Vic shook his head.  "Somehow, all things considered, I think this is more 	medicinal. Think about it.  We have to go to work.  Both of us.  And face 	whatever bullshit busy work they come up with.  Ever heard of 	fortification?" 
</p>
<p>	"Awww, FUCK!  Work?  Do we have to? Couldn't you say I died suddenly?" 
</p>
<p>	Vic smirked as he reached for another coffee mug.  "No, Mac—Li Ann, 	remember?  We have to go see her." 
</p>
<p>	"In that case, make it a double—hell, make it a triple!" Mac groaned. 
</p>
<p>	"Ri-iight, Mac.  The Director would just love that, now wouldn't she?" 
</p>
<p>	"Vii-iic,"  Mac whined pitifully.  "Did you have to bring up her name? 	Remind me of—" his eyes opened wide in sudden recollection.  "Jesus," he 	said hopelessly.  "She called last night.  She fucking CALLED us, Vic!"  He 	collapsed into a chair and buried his face in both hands.  "We're fucked, 	partner.  We are SO fucked!" 
</p>
<p>	Vic raised his brows at Mac's dramatic histrionics.  "Yeah.  Totally.  You 	got that right. We fucked each other too.  But I guess we don't need to go 	there."  He poured out two coffees and brought one steaming mug over to 	where Mac sat, slouched in despair. 
</p>
<p>	Mac wasn't meeting his eyes, but Vic realized that neither of them was up to 	handling that part yet. Sipping cautiously, he sat down on the couch.  "She 	won't let this go, you know.  We need to form some kind of strategy, 	together."  He winced as he realized that they were sitting in the wrong 	room for this discussion.  She had it bugged.  Then he sighed and sat back, 	making himself comfortable.  Taking another gulp of hot coffee, he said, 	mildly, "You might as well have a shower here.  Help yourself." 
</p>
<p>	Mac looked nervous again though, at this suggestion. "I really need to get 	home, get a change of clothes," he mumbled toward the carpet. 
</p>
<p>	Vic tried to hide the hurt that went through him at this.  He was trying, he 	really was.  He didn't want Mac to run, nor did he want to embarrass Mac by 	rubbing his face in what had happened between them before he was ready to 	discuss it.  But Mac was acting like Vic was going to use it against him. 
</p>
<p>	Quietly, he replied, "You could give me a little credit, here.  I'm hardly 	going to corner you in the shower and take advantage of you.  Or are you 	upset that I wouldn't?" 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>	Mac winced at the softly spoken accusation.  He knew he was hurting Vic's 	feelings, knew that he wasn't handling this well.  Damn.  That had been one 	of the major reasons he'd been so keen to sneak away without Vic knowing. 	"Oh hell, Vic.  I just... dammit, this is... I'm trying, here.  But, this is 	so fucking weird—I just don't know what to say—how to act.  I mean—where do we go from here—DO we go anywhere?  And, if so, how?"  At a loss, 	he looked to Vic for answers.  "You seemed to know a whole lot more about... 	" 
</p>
<p>	Cutting himself off as the probability of listening devices occurred, Mac 	grimaced at Vic.  "Look, let's go out—for breakfast.  There's a dining 	room at the hospital!" he said with sudden inspiration.  "Let's go there—kill two birds, y'know.  And—we can pick up my car on the way to the 	Agency."  It wasn't much of a solution but it was better than providing more 	free entertainment to the voyeur they called "boss." 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>	So—the hospital cafeteria.  After they'd gone through the line, each 	choosing a light and bland breakfast, the two chose a table over by the 	windows, and then stared fixedly at their food as if looking for 	inspiration. 
</p>
<p>	Mac cleared his throat uncomfortably.  "So, Vic, I don't suppose you'd like 	to discuss this—your experience—where you got it.  And how...  Have you 	always been bi?" 
</p>
<p>	Vic grimaced, toying with a fork.  "Labels are fun, aren't they?"  He really 	didn't want to delve deeply into his past, regardless of how it might be the 	only thing that would allay Mac's doubts and insecurities.  He was having 	enough trouble with this new turn in their relationship himself. He really 	didn't have any desire to start opening the can of worms that was his past. 
</p>
<p>	Vic looked up at Mac, noting how his partner still kept averting his face 	and refusing to meet his gaze.  "Mac?"  He waited until Mac looked back at 	him. 
</p>
<p>	"Yeah?" 
</p>
<p>	"I... look, Mac, my past—or the details of my past, are not exactly what 	I wanted to get into this morning.  I don't think either of us are up to 	it."  At Mac's crestfallen expression, Vic sighed.  "Yeah, I'm bi—and I've 	known since I was a teenager.  Good enough for now?" 
</p>
<p>	"Yeah, yeah," Mac mumbled, suddenly finding his fork to be of extreme 	interest.  "Sorry, Vic, didn't mean to push.  I'm just at such a loss. 	Everything I'd assumed about my preferences got turned on end last night and 	I—" With a sigh, Mac broke off his rambles.  "Never mind.  I'll work it 	out." 
</p>
<p>	Vic leaned forward.  "Mac, look at me." 
</p>
<p>	When Mac finally glanced up to meet his eyes, Vic offered a smile.  "I 	didn't mean we could NEVER discuss it—me, I mean.  Just not now, okay? 	But, Mac... you're the same man today that you were last night.  You haven't 	suddenly started seeing me as different somehow, have you?" 
</p>
<p>	Mac thoughtfully regarded Vic.  "No, no I haven't.  I just—" He stopped with 	a frustrated sigh.  "I don't know what to expect." 
</p>
<p>	Vic bit out a short laugh.  "Yeah, I hear you.  Me neither.  We should play 	it by ear, I think." 
</p>
<p>	Mac answered, "And it's none of her business." 
</p>
<p>	Vic shuddered.  "Agreed." 
</p>
<p>	Mac hesitated.  "And Li Ann..." 
</p>
<p>	Vic frowned.  "Until we get this sorted out between us, I don't see any 	reason why she needs to know, either." 
</p>
<p>	"Unless the Director tells her, which she undoubtedly will," Mac pointed 	out. 
</p>
<p>	A dark look crossed Vic's face.  "It isn't really any of her business." 
</p>
<p>	A voice beside them, hateful in it's familiarity, interrupted them. 	"Actually, it is.  Everything you do is my business."  The Director stood 	there, tapping one long red nail against her arm, where she looked down at 	them, her arms folded. 
</p>
<p>	"For your information, we were talking about Li Ann," Vic informed her in an 	even tone.  "But, now that you mention it—as long as we keep our... um, 	relationship outside of the workplace, what's the problem?" 
</p>
<p>	"Boys, boys," she shook her head in apparent despair.  "When will you ever 	learn?   Your lives belong to me. " 
</p>
<p>	Too tired to argue the matter—yet again—Vic sighed and looked at Mac. 	"Anything else, boss?" 
</p>
<p>	"Yes." 
</p>
<p>	Fuck!  Mac moved his plate and leaned forward, resting his head on the 	tabletop. "What?"  He asked with weary resignation. 
</p>
<p>	"Li Ann," she said, as if unable to believe they could possibly be so dense. 
</p>
<p>	"What about her?"  Vic finally asked when no further comment was 	forthcoming. 
</p>
<p>	"Well, while you two lovebirds are happily chirping away down here, lining 	your new nest, Li Ann is upstairs, wondering why no one except for Dobrinsky 	and myself have been to see how she is faring." 
</p>
<p>	Vic stared at the Director with some amazement. 
</p>
<p>	Mac spluttered, "What?! We—we stayed for hours yesterday, waiting to make 	sure she would be okay! They had to throw us out! We—" 
</p>
<p>	Vic stopped him, cutting in with a glare at the Director.  "We were just on 	our way up to see her.  How is she? Has her condition changed?" 
</p>
<p>	She smirked in that annoying way of hers.  "I suggest you two go on up to 	her room and see for yourselves.  IF you can tear yourself away from this 	nauseatingly romantic scene." 
</p>
<p>	In chorus, both men spat, "Fine".  Throwing their napkins to the table, they 	turned to leave. 
</p>
<p>	"Oh, and boys..." 
</p>
<p>	Fuck, fuck, fuck.  This bitch was never happy until she had the last word. 	"Yes?" Vic asked tersely, deliberately not turning to face her. 
</p>
<p>	"WHEN—not if—I tell Li Ann about your new... romance—I will do so with 	good reason. " 
</p>
<p>	Uh huh, riiight, thought Mac.  Knew better than to actually say it aloud, 	though.  No need to go looking for even more trouble right now.  Besides—no matter what reason she might have—whatever argument they might put 	forth was simply wasted effort. 
</p>
<p>	She paused with a thoughtful tilt of her head.  "Although, she may work it 	out all on her own.  You two do make a rather...fetching couple."  The 	Director smiled coolly and brushed past them, her heels making a staccato 	statement in her wake. 
</p>
<p>	Vic sighed.  Mac frowned.  They turned to exchange a glance.  The level of 	camaraderie and unspoken understanding in it was more than enough to 	reassure Vic that they would be able to carry on for a while longer without 	a return of Mac's earlier reaction to their tryst the night before. 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>	When they reached the door to Li Ann's hospital room, they crept quietly and 	cautiously inside. 
</p>
<p>	Li Ann lay there, looking pale and wan.  She looked over at them and smiled 	weakly.  "Hey.  I've been wondering where you were." 
</p>
<p>	They both started talking at once, realized how guilty that sounded, then 	stopped.  Vic waited for Mac, who turned to her and said, "We stayed all day 	yesterday, just to make sure you were going to be okay.  We came over as 	soon as we got up." Li Ann frowned at him, looking at them both like they 	were crazy.  "What are you—why are you all worked up?  I wasn't being 	critical.  I didn't expect to find you camped out in my room." 
</p>
<p>	Mac considered her—and thought about his response.  "Well," he offered 	carefully, "we  just wanted you to know that we were worried, that we 	wouldn't desert you." 
</p>
<p>	"Actually," Vic ventured, more than a little stung by her dismissive 	attitude, "I think we're more upset about your "little accident" than you 	are." 
</p>
<p>	"Jeez, guys," she sighed and rolled her eyes, "it was a car accident.  I 	don't know that it merited all this angst.  You act like you already held 	the wake." 
</p>
<p>	Mac tried, he really did, but he wasn't able to suppress the blush he felt 	rising in his face.  And Li Ann didn't miss it, oh no, not that eagle-eyed 	little miss.  With years of long practice, she read her "brother" like an 	open book, suspicion narrowing her eyes.  "Just what did you two get up to 	last night after you were sure I was "going to be okay"?"  If anything, 	Mac's blush intensified.  "On second thought, I'm not sure I even want to 	know what happened after you left."  Her eyes traveled to Vic and it was 	clear his uncomfortable expression was duly noted. 
</p>
<p>	Studiously avoiding her sharp gaze, Vic shuffled his feet and mumbled to the 	floor, "We went out to a bar... and got drunk—that's what happened." 
</p>
<p>	Her eyes widened in disbelief.  "Together?" 
</p>
<p>	"Yes, together," Mac huffed.  "You got a problem with that?" 
</p>
<p>	Vic put one hand on Mac's lower back in an unobtrusive show of support. 	"Easy, Mac.  Can't exactly blame Li Ann here—we're not known to spend our 	off-duty hours together." 
</p>
<p>	Mac huffed and turned towards the window.  Winced as the sharp sunlight sent 	agonizing shards into his brain and reached for his sunglasses.  "Sorry, 	Li Ann.  I'm just—I have the most god-awful hangover."  Mac grasped 	gratefully for the excuse, "You know that makes me cranky." 
</p>
<p>	Vic sent him a warning glare.  Too much information, damn it.  "We waited 	here for hours yesterday—then hit a local bar for a drink or two.  That's 	all, no big deal." 
</p>
<p>	"Mmmm," Li Ann murmured as her eyelids drooped sleepily.  She was loath to 	give up this fascinating line of inquiry, especially when her sluggish mind 	kept insisting there was something a little "off" about their story, but the 	pain medication was kicking in again.  "Need a nap, guys.  Sorry." 
</p>
<p>	"No problem, we understand," Vic assured her, more than grateful for the 	reprieve.  "We'll come back a little later, okay?  Gotta get to work now 	anyway." 
</p>
<p>	A sigh was the only answer. 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>	In Vic's truck on the way back to the bar to pick up Mac's car, Vic 	muttered, "Way to go, hero. You really aroused her suspicions back there. 	Ever heard of playing things low-key?" 
</p>
<p>	Mac couldn't dredge up the energy for his customary snappy comeback, merely 	continued to stare straight ahead from behind his dark glasses. "Could you 	speak more quietly, please?  My head still hurts." 
</p>
<p>	Vic shot him a look of disbelief, more than a little dismayed that this was 	the way his partner was choosing to handle things.  "Have it your own way, 	you always do.  You're the master of denial, after all.  Anything that's 	uncomfortable or inconvenient gets ignored.  You've made quite a name for 	yourself, you know, always sidestepping the issues." 
</p>
<p>	Mac didn't turn his head.  But he smiled a little.  "Yeah, and you'd know 	about that, wouldn't you, Victor?  You're so well known for jumping in and 	confronting those thorny issues.  No avoidance in your personal history, is 	there, Mr. Straight and Narrow." 
</p>
<p>	Vic scowled at the road in front of them. There was plenty he wanted to say, 	but, considering how he felt like something you'd scrape off the bottom of 	your shoe and his temper was frayed almost to the breaking point, now didn't 	really seem like a good time.  Without a doubt he'd say something he'd later 	regret.  Just at that moment they reached the bar, and fortunately, Mac's 	abandoned car looked untouched. 
</p>
<p>	"Can you manage to get to work?" Vic asked grudgingly.  The question didn't 	have the compassionate ring to it that it'd had the last time he'd asked it. 
</p>
<p>	Mac turned an implacable face to him, his expression unreadable behind the 	dark glasses.  It was as though he was already practicing his cool, reserved 	and thoughtful countenance, the "everything's fine" face he was going to 	show to others. 
</p>
<p>	Huh, wonder how long he'll be able to keep that up. 
</p>
<p>	Mac said, "I've been taking care of myself a long time.  I think I'll 	manage.  You'll find out when I get to the office." 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>	The rest of the day passed in an uncomfortable silence.  Vic sulking.  Mac 	sulking.  Neither talking any more than was absolutely necessary.  To each 	other, or to anyone else. 
</p>
<p>	And both suffering from massive hangovers. Which, to their mutual chagrin, 	every goddamned person in the Agency seemed to find vastly amusing. 
</p>
<p>	Finally, the afternoon arrived and they escaped. None too soon at that, as 	fragile tempers were worn gossamer thin, and one more remark from Dobrinsky 	just might have led to physical violence from one or both of them. 
</p>
<p>	As he arrived at his truck, keys in hand to unlock the door, Vic looked over 	at Mac.  Coincidentally, his car was parked in the next space over.  "So?" 
</p>
<p>	"So what?" 
</p>
<p>	Now that they were no longer under the watchful eyes of the other Agency 	employees, the tension that had been underlying the entire day began to show 	through the cracks in their reserve.  Vic was the first to give in to the 	strain.  He was too tired to deal with Mac's insecurity and avoidance right 	now.  Also, he was wondering, with the usual clarity of hindsight, if it had 	been a good idea in the first place to play the 'experienced bi' to Mac's 	'virgin oh-please-take-me' routine. 
</p>
<p>	"Jesus, Mac! What do you mean, <i>what</i>? Don't you think we should at least 	talk about this?" 
</p>
<p>	Mac stared at him.  "What the hell has gotten into you?  All I said was 	<i>what</i>.  WHAT is wrong with that?" 
</p>
<p>	Fuming slightly, both at Mac for playing dumb and at himself for losing his 	cool, Vic growled, "You've been avoiding it all day.  Ever since this 	morning.  I've given you the space because I figured it was only fair, 	seeing as you were—" 
</p>
<p>	"Were what?  I was what, Vic?  Go on, I want to hear this one," Mac said, a 	little incredulously, his own anger breaking through the calm facade. 
</p>
<p>	Vic didn't answer for a long moment.  He was breathing harder and finally he 	gave a frustrated sigh.  Swallowing, he fully turned to face Mac and looked 	him in the eye.  "I was going to say "hung over and not feeling well", but 	since you're dead set on being confrontational, let's say what's on both our 	minds.  You were inexperienced, Mac, okay.  You were the novice, the virgin—- with men, anyway.  And I—" 
</p>
<p>	"And you WHAT?" 
</p>
<p>	Vic slammed one hand on the hood of his truck.  "I fucking took advantage, 	okay?  Happy now, Mac?"  He was practically shouting.  "I should never have 	let it happen.  I'm an idiot and I should have left you the fuck alone!" 	Opening his truck with unwonted force, Vic climbed in.  "A damned delusional 	idiot," he growled quietly to himself as he jammed the key into the 	ignition. 
</p>
<p>	With a roar, the engine turned over and Vic put it in gear.  Fuck this shit. 	 He'd had enough.  More than enough!  When Mac crossed the small space 	between the two vehicles and pounded on his window, it was all Vic could do 	to NOT run the self-centered little bastard over. 
</p>
<p>	Exercising great control over his temper and keeping his gaze resolutely 	forward, Vic carefully pulled away—making sure that he gave NO sign that 	Mac's repetitive cries of "Vic" were heard.  He didn't even look into the 	rearview mirror, knowing all too well that Mac stood there gazing after him 	with those damned hurt puppy-dog eyes. 
</p>
<p>	He left Mac, the Agency, the Director, Li Ann and everything else behind, 	concentrating on the road and the traffic.  He drove, trying to convince 	himself he was doing the right thing, that it was only sensible to give 	himself some distance from what had happened.  But that was the problem, 	wasn't it?  Mac was so much part of every aspect of his life, he couldn't 	distance himself from the other man.  They worked together, spent all their 	time together.  Was it so surprising that he'd fallen into the other man's 	arms the night before.  Fallen? Hell, who was he trying to kid.  He'd sat 	down next to Mac, knowing full well that he was extremely drunk and very 	confused, and pulled the man into his embrace.  And it had felt damned good, 	just right.  Victor remembered the sensations well, despite the alcohol 	binge. 
</p>
<p>	Vic felt his conscience nudge him, heard a tiny voice that whispered, 'he 	wanted you and you took advantage of that'.  Yeah.  It had felt nice to be 	wanted.  But had the younger man really wanted VIC, or had he just wanted 	the solace of a warm body, the imagined comfort of someone who cared when 	Li Ann so obviously didn't. 
</p>
<p>	Realizing his mind was running in circles, that he was worrying this problem 	like a dog working a juicy bone, Vic wondered if he wasn't just doing 	exactly what he'd just accused Mac of: running, hiding... 
</p>
<p>	A glance in the rearview mirror made him do a double take.  There was no 	mistaking it though; Mac's car was behind him.  Damn it!  Didn't that man 	know how to take a brush-off gracefully.  Mac had probably been tailing him 	the whole time, and now, here they were, nearly at Vic's place once again. 	Another glance didn't tell him much about his partner's state of mind; Mac 	was wearing his shades again and seemed focused simply on driving the racy 	sports car.  On consideration, Vic decided it might be a good sign that the 	young thief had been content to merely follow Vic's truck and hadn't taken 	advantage of his inattention to force him off the road or ram him at a 	stoplight. 
</p>
<p>	With a grim little smile, Victor covered the last few blocks to his 	apartment.  It appeared they were going to have the $64,000 conversation 	after all. 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>	By the time he pulled up in front of his building, Vic was again livid.  He 	didn't stop to wonder why he was so angry.  He merely put the truck into 	park, with a little more force than was strictly necessary, turned off the 	engine and bolted out of the cab.  Slamming the vehicle's door behind him, 	Vic went to stand beside Mac's car, his arms folded and his foot tapping 	impatiently until Mac finally opened his door and began to unfold his gangly 	frame from behind the wheel. 
</p>
<p>	"WHAT?" Victor growled at Mac.  "What do you want?  WHY are you here?" 
</p>
<p>	Pulling off his glasses, Mac allowed Vic an unobstructed view of his 	expression.  Instead of the expected anger or smug attitude, Vic was 	surprised to see a look of frustrated confusion.  A look that clearly spoke 	of hurt feelings.  "Look, Victor... I don't understand," the younger man 	began.  "Why are you so angry?  Why did you just storm off like that?  Is 	this about earlier?  About what I said to Li Ann, maybe?  I didn't mean to 	make her suspicious; I just didn't know what to say. 
</p>
<p>	"I—DAMMIT, Vic—I don't want to lose—I mean, don't you think we should 	talk?  About last night?   Or, was the whole thing just a drunken mistake? 	Am I not what you want—not your type—so undesirable that you regret last 	night?  Should I go away—should we just forget it?  Is that what you 	want?" 
</p>
<p>	"I CAN'T forget, Mac... that's the fucking problem," Vic snarled.  "I took 	advantage—can't forget THAT.  And I am very much afraid of you waking 	tomorrow and coming to the realization that I used you.  That I used your 	vulnerability over Li Ann's injury to take something you wouldn't have 	otherwise even thought to offer. 
</p>
<p>	"Don't you understand, Mac?  I feel guilty.  Guilty that I pushed you into 	something that wasn't fair to you.  I'm afraid you'll start to hate me, that 	this will cost me your friendship—affect our partnership." 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>	The words hurt.  But Mac pushed that pain aside and forced himself to mull 	over Vic's statement, taking a few moments to allow the words to sink 	through his tangled emotions, to give Vic's concerns the full consideration 	they deserved.  It was hard; seriously hard to evaluate whether or not the 	older man had taken advantage of his shaky emotional state, when all he felt 	was a surge of relief. So, I'm not alone.  I'm not the only one who doesn't 	know how to act about this. Truthfully, Vic's admission had brought him 	sudden relief.  Relief that he wasn't alone in his fears.  But hard on the 	heels of that feeling came a gut-wrenching certainty that if they didn't 	talk this out now the amazing possibilities last night had shown him would 	fade into nothingness. 
</p>
<p>	"Vic—listen to me.  The only way this can ruin our friendship, or 	partnership, is if we let it.  Give me a chance—give US a chance," Mac 	urged.   "Can't we, I dunno, go upstairs and talk?" Vic sighed heavily. 
</p>
<p>	"Oookay," Mac said, desperate to come up with a plan that would satisfy 	Vic's obvious reluctance to allow Mac into his home—again.  "How about my 	place?  The park?  A bar?  Whatever.  I think we HAVE to talk now, Vic—before we have a chance to retreat any further.  I don't want last night 	just to end up being ignored.  It...well it meant something to me, and I 	think to you too.  Let's not brush this under the rug without giving it an 	honest chance." 
</p>
<p>	Vic made no response, his face carefully blank, and his green eyes icy as he 	listened to Mac's emotional ramblings. 
</p>
<p>	Long seconds passed in silence while Mac waited for his partner to respond. 	Finally, Mac shook his head in disgust.  "Fuck it," he said in a low voice 	as he replaced his sunglasses and turned to leave.  "It didn't happen, okay? 	 Since that's what you seem to want, it didn't happen.  I won't say anything—to anyone.  We'll just ignore it all—the whole damned thing.  Go back to 	the way we were before I FUCKED up.  Before I let you... before I learned 	that... " He waved one hand helplessly as he started walking back to his 	car. 
</p>
<p>	"Where are you going?"  The voice was deep and quiet, the words barely loud 	enough to be heard. 
</p>
<p>	Mac stopped and shrugged, pointedly keeping his back to the other man. 	"Out," he said simply. 
</p>
<p>	"Out where?" 
</p>
<p>	What the fuck was up with the twenty questions thing?  "I don't know, Vic," 	he sighed.  "A bar, I suppose."  And some devil inside had him adding, "A 	gay bar, maybe.  See if the whole thing was just a reaction to the 	situation, or if this is something I really want to investigate further." 
</p>
<p>	"No," Vic said, immediately, cutting him off with a harsh, almost angry 	tone. 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>	There was no way he could handle that thought.  The mere suggestion of Mac 	going off and slumming around some gay bar just to compare notes and see if 	his new experiences could be latent 'gayness' sent a flash like a cold wave 	over Vic, sobering him instantly.  While part of him knew he should let the 	younger man go, to stay as far the hell away from him as could be managed, a 	larger part shouted that it couldn't be allowed to happen.  Victor's mind 	whirled at the intensity of his automatic and possessive response. 
</p>
<p>	Mac stared at him in obvious surprise.  "What do you mean 'no'?  Jesus, 	Victor; you're gonna have to make up your mind here.  One second you're 	pushing me away, the next you're acting like I'm not allowed to breathe 	without your express permission.  You're making me dizzy.  Make up your 	goddamned mind already." 
</p>
<p>	Frustrated, Vic scowled at his partner, wishing that the younger man didn't 	look so ...confused and appealing.  In spite of the unfortunate inclusion of 	far too much alcohol, last night had meant a lot to him, more than he wanted 	to face. 
</p>
<p>	And it was more than "scratching an itch," more than the satisfaction of 	mutual need.  Sure, the physical contact was a welcome change from cold, 	lonely nights, but he could have gotten that from any one-night stand he 	chose to take home. 
</p>
<p>	It was the thought of a specific warm body, his partner's long-limbed and 	gangly strength urgently pressing against him, responding with mutual desire 	and care. 
</p>
<p>	He hadn't dreamed Mac's reactions last night.  While Vic himself had 	initiated the entire thing, he hadn't imagined Mac's excited response—- or 	his enthusiastic participation.  But it kept coming back to the same damned 	thing... 
</p>
<p>	He was the more experienced partner, he'd known that Mac had been both drunk 	and emotionally fragile, yet he'd pushed Mac into a premature induction into 	a new, previously unexplored side of his nature.  Call it what it was.  He'd 	taken advantage of Mac's feelings.  He'd been too eager.  And he'd known it 	even as he'd plunged them both down this path. 
</p>
<p>	Vic licked dry lips.  "I guess I'm just feeling guilty, that's all—and, 	I'm taking it out on you, Mac," Vic mumbled.  "And, I'm scared—of what I 	could feel for you.  Of you just using me to satisfy your curiosity.  I... I 	... Mac last night I let you see me.  SEE me." 
</p>
<p>	Mac removed his glasses again.  The dark eyes were warm and earnest.  They 	seemed to promise that Mac understood and was willing to talk this through. 	"Vic, please, can't we just go upstairs and talk about this?" 
</p>
<p>	His feelings of reluctance still gnawing at his gut, Vic finally nodded and 	lead the way into the building. 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>	In the elevator, Mac opened his mouth to speak.  Vic held up one hand in a 	staying gesture.  "Not here.  I'll check for bugs in the apartment when we 	get there.  But... Hell,  I wouldn't put anything past that woman!  She 	probably has my entire building bugged." 
</p>
<p>	Nodding in silent agreement, Mac studied Vic's expression.  Fear.  Doubt. 	Guilt.  All easy to read in the expressive jade eyes.  And all feelings he 	could empathize with, feelings he shared.  Dammit, he needed to get his own 	head on straight, and pretty darned quickly, too.  Just what did he want 	from Vic?  What did he expect of the other man? 
</p>
<p>	Once they'd entered Vic's place, Mac concentrated on making coffee—no 	booze tonight, thank you very much—while Vic checked for listening 	devices.  Both finished at the same time and headed in to the living room, 	each bearing a cup of steaming coffee.  Placing the cups on the low table in 	front of the sofa, they wordlessly set to work removing the audio and video 	feeds from the light fixture above them. 
</p>
<p>	That task finished and the apartment as "Director-proof" as they knew how to 	make it, the partners returned to the couch, each man sitting at an opposite 	end, as much distance as possible between them. 
</p>
<p>	"So?" Mac finally volunteered when the silence became oppressive.  "Let's 	talk, Vic." 
</p>
<p>	Vic turned his attention from the steam rising off the mug he held in both 	hands long enough to offer Mac a grim look.  "We might as well get down to 	it, I suppose."  He drew another deep breath, his gaze unfocusing to stare 	off into middle distance.  "Last night was... was..." 
</p>
<p>	"It was good," Mac stated firmly. 
</p>
<p>	"Yeah, it was, I can't argue that. But—" 
</p>
<p>	"Would you want to do it again?" Mac interrupted.  He wasn't going to let 	Victor turn his back on what they'd shared without a fight. 
</p>
<p>	Vic sighed.  "Yeah. I would. But that's not the point." 
</p>
<p>	"Oh, I think it is, Vic," Mac said, gently.  "I think it's very much the 	point." 
</p>
<p>	As Mack watched, the older man thumped his coffee cup down on the table, not 	even noticing that a tiny bit of the liquid splashed out.  Not like Vic at 	all. 
</p>
<p>	Rising from the couch, Vic began to pace out his agitation.  "No, Mac—that's what you refuse to see.  This is EXACTLY what I'm talking about!  I'm 	bi, not something you knew, but something I accepted about myself a long 	time ago.  I find you very desirable, and I know you've always been wilder 	than was good for you.  You've never been one to avoid a dangerous situation 	or back down from a challenge. 
</p>
<p>	"I'm thrilled that you think what we did together was "good' but I don't 	want you doing this for the wrong reasons.  I can't ... I feel so fucking 	bad!  I took advantage of you and your situation with Li Ann.  You never 	would have come to me looking for what we did; I seduced you.  You're 	straight, for godssake!" 
</p>
<p>	"Vic." Mac chose his words carefully, seeing that his partner was on the 	edge, that this could go either way.  "You didn't trick me or force me. 	Nothing happened to me that I didn't ask for....  Based on that alone, I 	think we have to change the "straight" designation to at least "bi-curious". 	 And straight or not, I want to continue this—I want you.  I think maybe 	I'm—"  SHIT!  Mac cut himself off.  No need to admit any more than either 	was ready for.  "Can't we just try it—try us?" 
</p>
<p>	Victor halted his pacing and turned to stare down at the seated man.  "Mac, 	did you hear what you just said?  Can you honestly tell me that there was a 	doubt in your mind last week, hell, two days ago, that you were anything 	less than 100% heterosexual?  How can you be sure what you want?  I don't 	want you to feel obliged to get into this simply because you know I want 	you.  I mean, I—I've wanted—this isn't new...."  Apparently unable to 	form his thoughts into coherent arguments, Vic groaned and sank back onto 	the couch, this time slightly closer to his partner. 
</p>
<p>	Mac raised his brows at Vic, offering a slight smile of encouragement. 	"Good, good. This is progress.  We're talking here, that's gotta be good. 	So," he took a breath, refusing to be distracted from his goal, "can we try 	us, then?" 
</p>
<p>	Vic closed his eyes and rubbed distractedly at his forehead—a sure sign of 	a headache.  Mac could tell the older man was mentally and emotionally 	exhausted.  On one hand he felt bad that he was continuing to badger Vic 	about this when it was clear all he wanted was some peace and quiet and an 	early night.  But he couldn't feel too badly about it.  He couldn't say how 	he knew, but this was a fight that he had to win, that was worth whatever he 	had to do.  Even if it meant heartlessly backing the other man into a corner 	when he was less than 100%. 
</p>
<p>	Opening his eyes, Vic sighed, "Yeah, I guess we can.  In a way, I think we 	already have, that there already is an "us".  Ignoring it isn't going to 	make it go away.  We've already started something here, we might as well see 	it through."  He turned his head to regard Mac.  "It would be a shame not 	to." 
</p>
<p>	//A shame not to// 
</p>
<p>	//Shame// 
</p>
<p>	Damn. 
</p>
<p>	Vic's reticence—the tone of his reluctant agreement warned Mac that all 	was not well in the world of Victor Mansfield.  "Vic, I really do want you," 	he tried to reassure.  "Truly—and not because you fooled me or seduced me 	or pushed me into anything.  I want YOU, the person, the man.  I don't think 	gay, straight, or bi comes into it.  I just want you—only you.  I only 	said that about going to a bar to get a reaction.  And," he added in a 	shamed tone, "because I felt rejected.  I wouldn't do that—don't want 	anyone else. "If it's too soon—if you need more time, well, I can deal." 	Mac shrugged.  "I want us to do this right, Vic—I ... hell, I don't want 	to lose you over this." 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>	Vic was struggling with this outpouring.  It was almost as if Mac had pulled 	the rug out from under him, calling him on every point, had an answer for 	every roadblock that stood between them.  Leaving nothing, no impediments. 	Which meant... 
</p>
<p>	"That makes two of us, then, I guess."  Vic passed a hand over his face. 	"Look, I'm—I don't want to lose you either.  If you're okay with it, than 	so am I. I just don't want you feeling like I've pushed you.  That's all. 	I'm sorry I've been so difficult, that I ran off and left you at the 	Agency." Vic ploughed on, not seeing Mac roll his eyes at this customary 	assumption of guilt and blame.  "I do want this.  I mean, you.  When I said 	we shouldn't be together, I wasn't rejecting you, I was rejecting obligating 	you to something you might not be ready for."  He gave a short, 	self-derisive laugh.  "If anything, I think I was more worried you were 	rejecting me." 
</p>
<p>	Vic looked back over to Mac, gauging his reaction and waiting to see how 	this would go down. He really didn't want to make any bigger of a mess of 	things than they already were. 
</p>
<p>	"Sooo," Mac drawled.  "Let's summarize here, shall we?  We agree that we 	both want each other, that the sex between us was excellent, that we're both 	worried about doing something to jeopardize our friendship and working 	relationship, but are going to go forward with exploring this ... attraction 	anyway.  Sound about right to you?"  Mac accompanied this final question 	with his familiar smug smirk. 
</p>
<p>	Feeling more at ease with this familiar sight, Vic wasn't able to suppress a 	tired chuckle.  "Yeah, teach, that's about the size of it." 
</p>
<p>	Nodding, Mac continued, "Does this mean... um, should we wait?  Take our 	time—let the sex come later—IF that's where we end up?"  The younger man 	was trying for nonchalance but Vic could see his features tighten as he 	asked the casual question. 
</p>
<p>	Not sure how to respond, Victor was surprised at the thought that 	immediately popped into his mind.  Oh god, let this lead to sex—that and 	so much more. 
</p>
<p>	At Vic's silence, Mac continued, "I guess I'm asking if we should slow 	things down.  You know, dating, romance, the whole "get to know each other 	better" thing.  Basically, forget last night, set it aside and just spend 	time together. 
</p>
<p>	"Don't get me wrong, Vic.  I'm so fucking horny for you that I'd just as 	soon drag you into the bedroom.  But, I'm just so—I want so much to do 	this right—to do what you want.  Please, god, please tell me what you want 	from me." 
</p>
<p>	Vic felt a pulse of arousal begin deep inside of him at Mac's words. He 	tried to ignore it, shoulder it aside—it wasn't really what the situation 	called for at this point.  He didn't want things to flare out of control as 	they had the night before.  He looked over at Mac, studying his partner 	carefully, noticing things about him for the first time.  Was just his 	imagination, or was Mac really as vulnerable, as emotionally open as he 	appeared right now? 
</p>
<p>	The realization caused violently conflicting impulses.  A part of him 	couldn't help responding protectively—and he was probably the main thing 	that Mac needed protecting from.  But this more accessible side Mac was 	showing was making his libido soar.  Just thinking about it made him lick 	his lips, and his dick was hard enough to cut glass. 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>	Mac waited for Vic to answer, to lay out how they were to proceed.  He 	risked a glance at Vic to see what he might be thinking.  What he saw 	knocked the breath out of him.  Vic was giving him that LOOK. 
</p>
<p>	Mac asked, cautiously, "Uh, Vic?"  Almost gasped when Vic smiled a little 	smile at him, one that was filled with an unexpectedly devilish desire ... 
</p>
<p>	Mac swallowed hard.  He blinked.  What the hell?  Not five minutes ago Vic 	had been trying to push him away, now he seemed to be staring at him the way 	a hungry leopard assessed a tender, young antelope.  He frowned, more than a 	little confused.  "Vic?" 
</p>
<p>	"Yeees?" Ohmigod.  That voice.  Low, gravelly and so damned sexy.  "Uh—Are 	you saying, um, offering, ah, answering me the way I think you're answering 	me?  Does this mean...."  Mac stammered to a halt struggling to ignore the 	way his heart was trying to pound its way out of his chest. 
</p>
<p>	Vic rose, the movement sinuous and very, very sensual... 
</p>
<p>	//Shit—you are SO far gone, Ramsey// 
</p>
<p>	and held out one hand to Mac.  "Yes," he said simply, still in that voice. 
</p>
<p>	"Oh."  Mac knew he'd squeaked.  Pretty damned embarrassing to be squeaking 	at his age, but he couldn't bring himself to care.  Not now.  Nope, he was 	too busy worrying that his suddenly wobbly legs would cause him to end up in 	a heap at Vic's feet. 
</p>
<p>	Wouldn't THAT be a kick in the ass? 
</p>
<p>	Taking a deep breath, Mac took Vic's hand, not even trying to suppress the 	shudder of emotion the warm contact sent through his body.  He allowed the 	other man to pull him to his feet, he even managed to stay upright.  Next 	problem—locomotion.  As Vic turned and tugged Mac in the direction of the 	bedroom, Mac was vastly relieved to find that he could, indeed, walk. 
</p>
<p>	Once inside the bedroom, with the door firmly shut, clothes went flying, a 	whirlwind of apparel discarded with abandon.  Then Mac's world consisted of 	nothing but heat and amazing feeling of Victor's mouth against his own. They 	managed to get onto the bed, not quite making it under the covers.  Mac 	didn't mind; he liked seeing all of Vic like this.  Naked, trembling and 	flushed, his cock jutting proudly forth and with that gleaming, desperate 	hot look in those deep green eyes. 
</p>
<p>	"God, Vic," Mac panted. "I want... I want you so much."  He looked at Vic 	with appeal.  "What—what should I do?" 
</p>
<p>	"Fuck me, of course." 
</p>
<p>	Mac lost his ability to breathe at that.  Fuck Vic?   Oh no ... he couldn't—</p>
<p>	Or, could he?  Finally able to draw breath again, Mac considered the 	possibilities. His cock grew impossibly hard at the very thought.  But... 
</p>
<p>	"I've never done that, Vic.  Think you're up to giving an amateur 	instructions?  Or," he hesitated, filled with doubts, "did you mean it? 	Seriously?" 
</p>
<p>	Vic pulled Mac closer and pressed his lips to one ear.  "Seriously, Mac. 	Very seriously—I want to feel you inside of me. Need it.  Need you." 
</p>
<p>	One hand reached down to caress Mac's balls, cupping and handling them while 	he sucked in a breath and tried to remember what was required of him.  Oh. 	Vic wanted him...INSIDE of... Jesus.  The thought made his cock pulse and 	Vic chuckled gently against his neck as he felt Mac's response to both Vic's 	words and touch. 
</p>
<p>	"Victor," Mac breathed, just enjoying saying his name as Vic's hand now 	moved upward to grip his cock.  It wasn't enough—he wanted to feel his 	body against Vic's, so completely, so totally, that they were joined.  So 	that their skin was no longer separating them from each other.  Wanted to 	stay like this forever.  He found his heart thudding rapidly inside of his 	chest at the final, inescapable conclusion that this led to.  He wanted Vic. 	Wanted him now and forever.  Couldn't let go of him now that he had him. He 	knew he was willing to do whatever it took to make this last.  To make 	<i>them</i> last. 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>While he held his trembling young lover in his arms, Vic was 	trying to remember where they'd left the condoms and lube.  He was anxious 	to feel Mac's slender, long silky shaft filling him....  He looked about the 	room and happened to catch the expression on Mac's face.  It froze him into 	stillness.</p>
<p>	Do I look like that too?  All sort of dazed and flushed?  Eyes wide and all 	pupil? 
</p>
<p>	Vic closed his eyes tightly, suddenly feeling unworthy of the almost 	reverent emotions he could see in his partner's gaze.  After a moment, he 	leaned down to press a warm kiss to that plush mouth.  Gathering his 	composure, he whispered, "Won't be a moment.  I need to get the lube." 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>	Mac swallowed the lump in his throat, reminding himself that breathing was a 	pre-requisite for survival as he watched Vic searching around for the lube 	and condoms.  It seemed so illicit to gain such a thrill from seeing Vic 	naked like this, and with the added anticipation of soon to be fucking him—fucking VIC, for Godssake.  It left him shaking slightly.  He felt tensed 	like a coiled spring.  The sight of that ass as Vic leaned down momentarily 	sent a bolt of pure lust shooting through his lower belly, cranking his 	arousal to an almost unbearable level. 
</p>
<p>	"Vic," he said urgently in a low voice. 
</p>
<p>	Vic straightened, his eyes widening as he turned in disbelief at the deep, 	husky arousal in Mac's voice.  Triumphantly, Vic displayed the required 	items to Mac.  "On my way, babe." 
</p>
<p>	He scurried over to join Mac and climbed into the bed, immediately pulling 	the other man closer.  As he gently arranged Mac's length along his, Vic 	sighed happily.  "I want you," he murmured huskily.  "So much, Mac." 
</p>
<p>	With a demanding tug, Vic let Mac know that he wanted the feel of that lanky 	form atop him.  Mac willingly rolled on top the other man, not even pausing 	to consider whether his weight would be a burden. 
</p>
<p>	"God, that feels good!" Vic groaned. 
</p>
<p>	Apparently the weight wasn't an issue.  Arching, raising Mac like the crest 	of a wave, Vic sought more contact, thrusting his hips and grinding their 	matching erections together. 
</p>
<p>	"Mmmm, oh yeah!" Vic groaned helplessly.  "You feel... Oh, Mac—I've wanted 	this—you—so badly.  So glad you followed me home." 
</p>
<p>	Reacting as much to Vic's words as the obvious desire the man felt, Mac 	writhed against him.  His breathing hot and labored, Mac tried his best to 	climb right inside of Vic's skin. "You're killing me here, Vic.  What—how 	do I do this?  Want to fuck you... Want you so much!" 
</p>
<p>	Vic chewed his lower lip, breathing hard.  "I think—here," and he turned, 	reluctantly detaching himself from Mac's embrace to slide down on the bed 	and lie there, on his stomach.  "Let's try it this way." 
</p>
<p>	Mac gave a little moan at the sight.  Vic lay facedown, his head turned to 	the right, with his arms up around the pillow, seemingly holding onto it for 	support.  His legs were parted slightly, with his right knee bent.  Mac 	reverently got up to lean over him, kissing his way down the smooth back, 	marveling at the warmth, the suppleness, the sheer beauty of the man under 	him.  When his traveling hands reached Vic's hips, he bent to kiss the pale 	asscheeks, loving the way the skin felt to his lips as his mouth followed. 
</p>
<p>	Mac gulped, wanting nothing more than to plunge his aching hardness between 	those taut buttocks, but he felt awkward.  He wasn't sure that he wouldn't 	cause Vic either discomfort or pain, seeing as his intended point of entry 	was so much tighter than any cunt he'd had.  "Um, Vic?" he asked, quietly. 	"How do you want me to go about this?" 
</p>
<p>	Shifting impatiently, Vic glanced at Mac.  He seemed to realize how 	overwhelmed the younger man felt and offered an encouraging smile.  "Mac, 	pick up the lube—yeah, that's it.  Now, put a little on your fingers... " 
</p>
<p>	When Mac's shaky hands had managed the flip-top, and his fingers were coated 	in the clear lubricant, Vic continued.  "Lay down next to me, Mac.  I want 	to feel you against me while you get me ready." 
</p>
<p>	"God, Vic , your voice alone could make me—"   With a sigh of joy, Mac lay 	down, draping his body along Vic's.  Heat.  That silky skin was so fucking 	hot!  "Okay, Vic, here I am, fingers lubed ... what now?" 
</p>
<p>	"Now, you prepare me, Mac."  Vic said huskily—urgently.  "Stretch my 	asshole—so you can—Oh god!"  Vic jumped when Mac carefully ran one 	finger across his opening.  "More.  Please, MORE!" 
</p>
<p>	Vic's responsiveness atop Mac's already aroused senses was almost more than 	he could bear.  He grinned.  Flashes of what had happened between them last 	night came in flickering images and remembered sensations... He knew exactly 	how Vic must feel at this moment.  He gently slid the end of one finger into 	Vic's hot, tightly puckered anus, relishing the way Vic groaned aloud and 	seemingly moved his hips involuntarily. 
</p>
<p>	"More, oh yes, that's it," Vic strained, his voice going all whispery and 	choked. 
</p>
<p>	Mac chuckled inaudibly beside him and replied, "You're so beautiful like 	this."  He slid more of a slippery finger into Vic's clenching hole.  "Love 	doing this to you."  He began to slide his finger in and out, 	experimentally. 
</p>
<p>	It garnered quite an awesome reaction.  "Shit!  FUCK!"  Vic moaned.  "Damn, 	Mac—I think you've a natural."  He raised his hips further and started 	rocking onto that wonderfully invasive finger.  "OH!" He exclaimed.  "Oh 	SHIT, yesss.  More, Mac—another finger." 
</p>
<p>	"Don't... don't want to hurt you, Vic," was the panted response. 
</p>
<p>	Turning his head, Vic let Mac see just how much he was loving this—how 	GOOD it felt.  "Not gonna hurt me," he promised.  "Just—just more, 	please?" 
</p>
<p>	Mac grunted and reached to apply more lube to his fingers.  No matter what 	Vic said, Mac was determined to take his time and do this right.  Never mind 	his aching, dripping cock.  He could wait, take the time to be sure Vic was 	ready for him... he'd take all the time necessary. 
</p>
<p>	Carefully, he slipped another finger into Vic.  Damn, the man was tight—and warm—and the passage was so silky!  With a desperate sound, Mac asked, 	"You okay?  Am I doing this right? " 
</p>
<p>	"Y-you're doing fine.  Dammit, Mac, please, I'm ready NOW."  With his 	insides turning to jelly and his body locked into some kind of primitive 	reaction, Vic was gasping for breath, squirming with two fingers now sliding 	in and out of him, he couldn't help moving back, trying to get more inside 	him.  "Please! Want your cock in me, now!" 
</p>
<p>	Mac obediently slipped his fingers out of Vic's clutching anus and began to 	unroll the condom onto his cock.  He fumbled the attempt twice, his fingers 	were trembling with anticipation and slippery with lube.  Finally, he had to 	get up from the mattress and concentrate on doing it properly.  The condom 	seemed just a little too tight on his prick, but he was past caring, and it 	really was nothing.  Nothing compared to how tight Vic's ass was.  God. 	With a mixture of awe and lust, Mac climbed between Vic's legs to lean back 	down over him and place the head of his cock against Vic's desperate and 	eager hole, his little backward grinding movements taking Mac into him 	before Mac had even begun to push. 
</p>
<p>	OH. 
</p>
<p>	JESUS. 
</p>
<p>	Vic's ass was so... so good, a vise-like grip sucking him into a satiny 	furnace.  He whimpered slightly, he was so ready just to let go then and 	there, give into some wild idea of slamming into that tightness, that depth. 	 "Vic," he managed, his voice carrying a high-pitched note of desperation 	that carried through the strained huskiness. 
</p>
<p>	Very much afraid that he'd come right away just knowing he was inside Vic, 	Mac paused.  Gasping for air and dripping sweat, he did his best to calm 	down, bring himself under control. 
</p>
<p>	Vic wriggled under him, pushing back onto Mac's cock.  "Oh FUCK!" Mac ground 	out.  "Vic... Victor, hold still for a minute, okay?  You don't want this to 	be over TOO quickly, do you?" 
</p>
<p>	"No," Vic groaned—and clenched his anal muscles around Mac. "I don't—but 	it's so good, Mac.  I don't think I can wait..."  Whimpering with desperate 	need, he ground his ass against Mac's groin.  "Can't," he panted, "can't 	wait.... Jesus, Mac, fuck me.  Please." 
</p>
<p>	Pushing himself up onto his knees, Vic started to fuck himself on Mac's 	hardness.  Overwhelmed by the sensation, Mac gripped Vic's hips tightly with 	both hands.  He was probably leaving bruises on that milky skin, but he 	couldn't bring himself to care.  And judging by the sob of pleasure that 	shook Vic's body, he wasn't minding too much either.  In fact, the thought 	of seeing marks he'd caused left on his partner's body was deeply arousing. 
</p>
<p>	"Okay, baby, you want it, you got it," Mac promised, gritting his teeth with 	the effort to not come as Vic continued to work himself on Mac's length.  	Putting some muscle into it, Mac began to thrust forward into Vic, setting a 	faster pace than Vic had been able to. 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>	Vic gasped and locked his arms to brace himself as Mac finally—FINALLY—began to fuck him in earnest.  Each time Mac's cock slid fully into him, 	deeper and harder with every thrust, a jolt of searing pleasure went racing 	through him.  He was about to come himself, without anything or anyone 	touching his cock. Vic couldn't help giving an open-mouthed cry with every 	slam of Mac's hips against him. The magic that Mac's cock was working on his 	prostate, as well as filling him and stretching him so completely, so 	wonderfully, almost made up for the desperate itch Vic had to feel his ass 	being reamed out harder.  Mac didn't seem to realize Vic could willingly 	take deeper, harder thrusts, but that was something he'd learn with time and 	experience.  Right now, he was doing a very admirable job of blowing the top 	off Vic's skull. 
</p>
<p>	As if hearing Vic's mental wish for more, Mac drove into him harder and 	harder.   Vic could feel that expansive bubble of pleasure rising from his 	feet to reach his lower belly, rising up further to reach his head and then 	began to cry out as his cock let loose, his come shooting out of him to land 	on the bed beneath as he shook, convulsing slightly with the force of his 	climax. 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>	That cry.  Lord—the way Vic's muscles clenched around his cock!  Mac 	tightened his hold on Vic's hips and thrust into his silky passage as far as 	possible.  Not breathing, unable to breathe, he froze.  The rippling 	contractions of Vic's asshole were irresistible—as was the knowledge that 	the ripples were in reaction to HIM. 
</p>
<p>	As that thought took over, Mac couldn't hold off any longer.  With a shout, 	he pulled out once more, slamming his way back in—as far into Vic as 	possible. 
</p>
<p>	And came. 
</p>
<p>	And came some more.  Black spots were dancing before his eyes and his ears 	were rushing hollowly when Mac felt Vic collapse onto the bed.  Having no 	strength left in his own limbs, Mac had no choice but to follow him down, 	coming to rest heavily on his back.  For quite some time, there was no sound 	in the room but the gradually slowing breathing of the two exhausted men. 
</p>
<p>	"Damn," Vic finally mumbled. 
</p>
<p>	"Yeah," Mac responded, surprised to find that he could not only breathe, he 	could speak. 
</p>
<p>	With a happy sigh, Vic reached back and closed one hand over Mac's hip. 	""Night," he mumbled drowsily. 
</p>
<p>	"Mmph," was the reply.  But Mac was not really in a position to sleep, 	draped on top of Vic's frame.  And besides, it was necessary to get this 	condom off.  He pulled out of Vic carefully, then padded off to the bathroom 	to clean up. 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>	The surprised expression on his face clearly said Mac had expected Vic to be 	asleep when he came back from the bathroom. 
</p>
<p>	Grinning from the bed where he'd crawled under the hastily straightened 	covers, Vic invited, "Come on; get in." 
</p>
<p>	Holding open the covers as Mac slipped into the bed beside him, Vic pulled 	the other man down against the pillows and willingly met the arms that 	reached out to him halfway. 
</p>
<p>	Vic snuggled in against Mac, holding him closer and sighing with 	contentment.  He was exhausted, both mentally and physically, and more than 	ready for sleep.  If only he could get his mind to feel as relaxed and sated 	as his body.  But there was that damned little voice in his head, the one 	that popped off with things he didn't want to think about, usually at the 	worst possible times. And that damned voice was suggesting the two men had, 	in the time-honored tradition of men everywhere, used sex to avoid dealing 	with how they felt about each other.  He couldn't help suspecting that he 	was himself falling deeper for Mac than was wise.  This was the second time 	they'd had sex and it seemed to be even better than he'd remembered.  Not 	hard, given their drunken state the first time, but still... 
</p>
<p>	Then it hit him.  Like a flashing neon sign pointing out disaster ahead. 
</p>
<p>	'FALLING FOR MAC' 
</p>
<p>	Falling, hell.  Damned if he hadn't already fallen.  The moment Mac had 	shown even the slightest inclination for him, seemed to let down his guard, 	opened himself and let himself show Vic that he wanted him... Vic had been 	lost the second he'd seen Mac's eyes and the vulnerability of his own desire 	for Victor—his partner, his rival, his friend. 
</p>
<p>	This was NOT what he had planned.  This was too big, too messy.  No way he 	could do this.  No way. 
</p>
<p>	But it was too damned late and he knew it.  It was already done. 
</p>
<p>	He loved Mac.  And Mac loved him.  The sex hadn't been avoidance at all; it 	had been a way for both of them to show their love without having to admit 	it aloud. Another typical "guy" thing. 
</p>
<p>	And in doing so, they'd fallen headlong into it.  No doubt the Director was 	laughing her ass off, Dobrinsky chuckling at her side, as they watched the 	two of them from some as-yet-undiscovered camera. 
</p>
<p>	However, the awareness of what he and Mac now had was enough to bring its 	own reassurance, and Vic knew he didn't give a damn.  Because there was 	happiness here.  There was comfort in the act of holding Mac, of feeling 	Mac's arms about him, of the touch of Mac's warm body close up against his; 	for now at least, that was enough. 
</p>
<p>	In the gathered darkness, Vic smiled to himself.</p>
<hr/>
<p><a id="notes" name="notes"></a>
</p>
<table>
  <tbody>
    <tr>
      <td>TITLE: Veritas 2: Post Mortem
<br/>	AUTHORS: Jennie, Jamie Wilsen and Jamie Joyce
<br/>	SERIES: Once a Thief
<br/> PAIRING: Vic/Mac 
<br/>RATING: NC-17
<br/>	FEEDBACK: Sure, we'd love to hear what you think. [email removed] or 	[email removed] 
<br/>	ARCHIVE: Yes to RatB, WWOMB, and NickZone
<br/>	DISCLAIMER: Not our characters, no money made here
<br/>	NOTES: Here's part 2, as promised.  Part 3 will turn up one of these days. 	Many thanks to Sue and Nicole for the betas
<br/>	Summary: Now that they're sober, how will our boys feel about last night? 
</td>
    </tr>
  </tbody>
</table>
  </div></div>
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